


Something Was Missing

by Little_Chickadee



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Catra (She-Ra) Redemption, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I wanted to write something a bit different, Injury, Injury Recovery, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, except thats already happened, we are working backwards on this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2020-09-01 14:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20259910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Chickadee/pseuds/Little_Chickadee
Summary: Not long after the portal, Catra has disappeared and the Horde has been quietly plotting—when Adora gets caught in a rough spot, she finds herself being forced to reconcile with recent events and face her old friend. Catra with the help of her newly found family tries to fix her own mistakes after losing everything, including her relationship with Adora.A canon divergence that takes place a couple months after S3.





	1. On The Run

The loud thumping of her heart in her ears was the only thing keeping Catra in the moment, with her arms pumping and her feet padding against the forest floor. She could hear the team of foot soldiers sent out after her shouting at her to surrender, to make this easier on herself—she didn’t even bother to glance back.

Catra knew she had nowhere to go.

Catra knew she had lost everything.

Catra knew she had truly lost everything this time.

This was it for her—wasn’t it?

She thought she’d hit a low when she was sent to the Crimson Waste, but even then, she still had Scorpia by her side.

Now, Scorpia had left just like everyone else in her life had. At least, Scorpia had the decency to tell her she was leaving. She told her that she’d be there for her when she’s herself again, whatever that meant. It wasn’t in Catra’s nature to crawl back to anyone, but she did miss having Scorpia there to back her up.

She admitted to herself, she missed the warmth that spread across her cheeks when she was with Scorpia... She had made her happy—for a time.

Maybe she should’ve stayed in the Waste, where she could’ve learned to be happy—where they were happy.

So here Catra was, running away from her mistakes.

She couldn’t even blame Adora anymore.

It was all her fault that Hordak wanted her dead for lying again, Catra had taken away the one thing he loved.

It was her fault Entrapta was gone, supposedly sent on a transport to Beast Island.

It was her fault that Scorpia felt betrayed, and she left the Horde in search of refuge because Catra threatened her after everything she’d done for her.

It was her fault that things would never go back to how they were with Adora, not after how much she’d done to purposefully hurt her and her new friends.

And she couldn’t blame her anymore.

Catra could only blame herself for the way she is.

She had nobody to turn to.

The Horde no longer respected her, while the rebellion hated her.

So why was she running?

Where would she go?

Catra kept going despite every nerve in her body was telling her to just stand still and take whatever was coming for her at this point.

She ran out of the Whispering Woods, and onto the rocky ledge at her left that surrounded the edge of the forest before a ravine with a flowing river resting at its bottom.

She let the soldiers fire their guns at her feet, her mind saying she probably deserved it after what she’s done.  
Catra was faster than any of the soldiers running after her, and she was faster than their gunfire could reach anyway.

As she looked ahead, she saw the cliff—marking the end of the trail for her.

She had yet another decision to make now.

She could keep running, or she could face the Horde.

Neither felt like the right decision, but she didn’t have time to be picky about it.

All she could think about—were Adora’s icy blue eyes glaring down at her after returning from the portal. Adora didn’t have to say anything in that moment. They told her all she needed to know.

She wasn’t worth fighting for anymore.

Catra made her decision, she kept running until the edge of the cliff—and from there, she let herself push off the edge and fall.

She’d let go back in the portal.

So what did it matter to do it again?

She’d lost everything, and Catra knew—that somehow she’d even managed to lose herself.

As she let herself fall, she hoped she’d stay lost.

* * *

All of these scouts for the possibility to retrieve one piece of First One’s technology seemed ridiculous, Adora thought. What seemed worse to her though, was that she was clearly after the same thing. Adora had also come to realize as of late, that she was simply Light Hope’s pawn. She had sent her here—and now she was surrounded by soldiers without backup.

Adora would have to give Light Hope a piece of her mind later though, not like the AI would really care if Adora screamed in frustration at her. Right now, a squadron had managed to push her to the edge of the woods as she ran. Trees whizzed by her, and all she could feel was her breath hot and rugged in her throat, and her feet pushing off from the ground.

Normally she’d do these Light Hope missions by herself or with Swift Wind—so this seemingly menial task had let her bring her guard down mistakably. She had let Bow borrow Swift Wind for the day to run a mission for Glimmer, thinking that this assignment from Light Hope would be an in-and-out experience. Typically she’d have to find some kind of emotional clarity and a power would reveal itself to her, fixing whatever old piece of tech Light Hope needed to be fixed.

Adora wasn’t so sure now if she should continue talking to Light Hope.

Mara’s warning had bounced around in her head for what was almost months now—and it scared her.

But Adora still needed answers, guidance even, and the only one who could do that was… Well, Light Hope.

Whom she couldn’t really bring herself to trust anymore.

So, she didn’t have Glimmer, who was overseeing everything at Bright Moon as Queen, or Bow, or even Swifty, to back her up this time.

It seemed as though everything had shifted between them since the portal.

Adora’s mind wandered as she sprinted close to the edge of the tree tine, if she should run towards the location Light Hope told her to go to—or back home.

She wanted to forfeit the mission after running into the squadron at the end of the Whispering Woods, but now she realized it wouldn’t be smart to lure them closer to Bright Moon or the Beacon in the woods. She couldn’t afford to force Glimmer to deal with the Horde so soon.  
Adora decided to cut to the right and stay at the edge of where she could see the edge of cliffs begin to appear, and run under the cover of the trees as long as she could. She could hear shouts behind her, and her breath began to falter. She didn’t bother to look behind her, because she wasn’t so sure how much longer she could keep this up.

At least she had She-Ra as a last resort, but even then she wasn’t so sure she could take down a whole squad by herself after a day and a half of traversing the woods to only end up being chased.

Hordak must be getting desperate or even frustrated, sending parties of armed soldiers out to search for technology.

Other than that, they’d been pretty quiet since the portal had failed.

Something wasn’t right though—because she hadn’t seen any of the robots Entrapta made and deployed to do the job instead, since the portal crumbled.

All she knew was that Catra had lied about her letting the Princess Alliance into the Horde.

It was like any trace of her had disappeared…

In fact, Adora had no idea where Catra had run off to either.

She’d been so busy helping Glimmer run things in Bright Moon after Angella’s sacrifice, and keeping a close eye on Shadow Weaver, that she hadn’t been able to process the thought of Catra since they escaped the Horde. Those things were the more important right now.

All she could understand was that there was no turning back now, Catra had made her decision.

Adora only felt anger when she tried to work through what had happened.

Maybe, she thought, she wouldn’t be in this mess alone if she hadn’t been so focused on everyone else’s problems recently and actually asked for help with her own. She’d thought she’d grown out of that, but apparently it had only gotten worse with her recent confidence.

She’d felt a new sense of purpose coming out of the portal after what Angella had done for her, but over the last month or so, it felt like she’d lost all the progress she’d made since then.

Things had only gotten more complicated back home—and she thought that maybe she’d grown to the point where she could handle these things by herself.

A burning sensation began to seep into Adora’s chest—it was was heaving for air. The sky was becoming dark and panic seeped into Adora’s mind and pushed the irrelevant thoughts from her head.

Swift Wind must’ve known by now something was wrong, and she could imagine the unreasonable panic he was probably feeling right about now. It would most likely alarm Bow too.

There was no way though, that they’d make it here in time to swoop in and help her from all the way across Etheria.

She cursed herself mentally—she needed to get these scouts off her tail. And soon, because Adora had run out of trees to cover her trail. Now she was met with a rocky ledge to run along, and flanking her right was large ravine with the sound of a river coursing through it echoing up. Her head throbbed for air, as it began to become too difficult to breathe while running any longer.  
She squeezed her eyes shut to focus on that little bit of adrenaline keeping her going, and when she blinked them back open, she found she was running into a dead end. The cliff’s edge ended into a rocky outcrop, and if she turned around now—she’d be cornered by the squadron.

She was out of options.

She came to an abrupt stop, and she felt her legs beg to give out while her head began to swim. She wasn’t sure if She-Ra would be at one hundred percent with herself being so worn out, but she didn’t really have any other choice but to face the soldiers head on.

She shakily heaved the sword off her back and held it aloft with her back to the outcrop, coughing out, “For the honor of Gray—“, before she heard the first shot fire with a loud crackle. She was in no place to dodge.

A fiery zing shot up her leg and the sword all but jumped from her hand, and her knee gave out from under her.

Adora collapsed, arms outstretched and her chin hit the rocky surface beneath her. She tasted blood in her mouth as she cried out unexpectedly—she’d bitten down on her tongue.

The sword skidded out in front of her and her eyes shot open in fear as she watched it stop some distance away from her grasp.

She’d made a big mistake thinking she could finally handle this alone, and all the sudden—Adora missed having Glimmer there to watch her back and teleport her away from trouble.

She didn’t have that luxury anymore.

“I got her! She’s down!”, Adora heard ahead of her.  
A few of the armored soldiers came sprinting up as Adora scrambled to work herself back on her legs to grab her sword. Adora pushed down on her knee and a flash of pain flared up and brought tears to her eyes. She was forced back on the ground the moment she hesitated by a heeled boot to the back.

They had surrounded her.

Adora’s lungs heaved for the air she’d been neglecting to fill them with as her chest was pressed to the hard ground. She coughed up a little blood that had been collecting in her mouth.

She pried one eye open to find the gaze returned by the group of ten or so soldiers all heavily armed with armor and guns. Two of them came to her sides and pulled her arms back roughly, causing her to grunt in pain after having landed on them beforehand. She noted that the guns weren’t the same stun guns she’d used before though, they were guns that had been reinforced to bring the She-Ra to her knees if the need be.

Hordak wasn’t just buying his time anymore.

Adora watched with horror as one of them jogged over to her sword and picked it up off the ground to hold it by the hilt, inspecting it before holding it to her chest.  
The soldier looked at Adora on the ground warily before speaking through her helmet in a familiar voice, “That’s her—that’s Adora.”

The guy that had shot at her gripped his gun, “Well she sure didn’t put up quite the fight I was looking for… are you sure this is the She-Ra? She didn’t even get to transform before these new babies brought her to her knees!”, he laughed out jerking his gun toward the blonde on the ground.

“I said, that’s her,” the soldier ground out annoyed. She eyed Adora again, making her seem conflicted.

Adora wondered—why?

“I can’t believe the second in command couldn’t even take her out in the end, too bad for her I guess,” he aimed his gun down at Adora’s face.

The other soldiers kept surprisingly quiet, which made Adora’s stomach perform flips.

“Put up quite the chase though—didn’t you? You look a little worn out…” He mocked as he paced closer to her.

Adora grit her teeth and writhed under the soldiers' grasp and the boot forcing her to the ground.

“I see that you have fire in you though… That should make this even more fun,” he charged his gun and it crackled with energy towards her face and Adora tried not to wince.

The other soldier tensed and strode up pulling him back by his shoulder, “Excuse me—but I don’t think this is what Lord Hordak meant when he ordered us to scavenge for tech and report back to him. She’s got information he will need too. We can interrogate her.”

The guy pointing the gun at her face lowered it and turned towards the girl soldier, “I guess.” He returned his gaze to Adora and lowered to his knees. “Tell us if you have any information on Princess Entrapta’s whereabouts—or else…” he drawled as he lifted her chin off the dirt with the tip of his gun.

Adora looked back at him a bit in shock, blue eyes gazing into his mask to search for his. She would’ve thought they’d ask about Shadow Weaver, or even where Angella had went. She knew both sides had been quiet recently, but there must have been rumors sent to the Horde about the princess being forced to quickly take over the throne in her mother’s absence.

She didn’t know how else to tell him she didn’t know, so, she decided it was in her best interest not to lie here.

“I don’t have any clue,” Adora choked out, spitting in his face. She shook her head, “Why don’t you ask Force Captain Catra, she’d know. She’s the one who lied to you.”

The man in front of her laughed devoid of emotion, and the others looked on—concerned.

“I hate to break it to you,” he mocked, “but we figured that out months ago—and we can’t ask her, because she’s gone. She’d been chased out about a month or two ago, and we haven’t seen her since. She’s as good as dead to Hordak.”

Adora’s throat closed and her shallow breath hitched, “A-are you serious?”

Adora couldn’t tell anymore if the feeling she had in her chest was concern for her enemy or anger.

The soldier holding her sword sighed, and took off her helmet as she walked closer to Adora. As soon as she let her dreads fall back into their ponytail and her face was uncovered, Adora found herself staring directly at Lonnie.

“Hey there,” she looked down at Adora with an unreadable expression.

“Lonnie?”, Adora croaked.

Her old friend’s eyebrows wrinkled and she gave her a look of concern as the man was very much still holding her at gunpoint, but Lonnie made no move to stop him.

“That’s me,” she stood above her, “I’m glad you still remember me after all we’ve been through.”

Adora’s expression crumpled, “O-of course I do Lonnie! I tried to escape with you in the portal after what Catra did…”

“I know—it’s foggy, but I guess thanks for trying,” she hugged the sword closer to her chest.

“Is Catra really gone? What happened?”, Adora pressed desperately.

The soldier still in front of her jerked his gun uncomfortably into her jaw, causing her to wince.

“Hey! We are asking the questions—got it?”, he barked.  
Adora glared back at him and didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.

Lonnie grimaced uncomfortably as she watched him be hostile with Adora. She spoke up again like nothing happened, “I don’t know much more than you, Adora. I was kinda hoping you’d know something. Both she along with Scorpia and Entrapta have been missing. We thought they’d come running for you.”

A soldier holding Adora down spoke up, “As soon as Hordak found out from his little Imp that Force Captain Catra had sent her on a transport to Beast Island, he went after her for lying again… All he wants is that blasted princess back. We’ve never seen him act like this before…”

Lonnie nodded, “He keeps sending troops out to look for her and gather this dumb old technology. Scorpia somehow disappeared before we knew she had been threatened by Catra, and the supposed transport was never heard from after it touched down on the island. We have no idea where any of them are. We think… we think Hordak is compromised.”

The soldier removed his gun from Adora’s jaw, “For once—we have no idea what Hordak is truly planning.” He went stiff, clearly thinking of his next move.

He stood up and his mouth thinned out into a hard line before he opened it again, “I think you’ve heard enough—and if you don’t have any information for us… Then we don’t have any need to compromise ourselves any more than we already are.”

He raised his gun and charged it directly at Adora’s head, and Adora writhed again under the grip of the soldiers holding her down, trying to break free. Her knee bashed against the ground as they held her and she could barely keep herself from throwing up—it was so bad she saw stars. She guessed it was worse than she thought it was, but she didn’t have any way to look right now.

Adora cried out in pain and Lonnie jumped to his side and tried to wrangle the gun from his hands, “Hey! She’s still She-Ra, we need her!”

He glared at Lonnie and shoved her harshly in the chest while pushing her back, “We don’t need anymore traitors in the Horde right now!”, he shouted before blindly pulling the trigger—hitting one of the men holding Adora down by accident.

Adora took the second he dropped to the ground in agony to surprise her captors and she managed to grit her teeth through the pain in her leg as she rolled over and used her good leg to push herself up, releasing her arms and managing to force the other two soldiers to fall to her sides.

She quickly stood to her head’s dismay while the soldiers scrambled to shoot at her. She grabbed the gun dropped by the soldier bleeding beside her and pointed it back as one guy took his aim. She was quicker though—and pulled the trigger aiming at his arm, hitting him and causing the gun to fly out of his hands at the impact. And in the moment of panic Adora charged another shot and aimed at the next soldier who was ready to fire at her, who managed to pull the trigger before she could.

She shot at him, but not without getting shot at back. Adora screamed as a beam tore through her side and she fell back to the ground, back to square one. She landed on her bad leg and the world hitched as she watched the other guy fall on his back to the ground with her.

She couldn’t let it end like this—not with the sacrifice Angella had made for her back in the portal.

She thought about Glimmer, and all she had lost—coupled with the responsibility she’d gained… Adora couldn’t leave her to face it alone. She’d already seen the toll of it put a strain on their relationship.

And she couldn’t leave Bow to just pick up all the pieces by himself, he needed support too. He was always there for her and Glimmer, and she needed to be there for him too.

She couldn’t leave behind the Princess Alliance or Etheria either—that’s why she was here and not stuck between dimensions.

It’s her destiny she supposed, or maybe even the only choice she’d made for herself.

Angella was right, she still had so much more to her story to tell.

Adora pushed as hard as she could, up on her elbows. Her muscles screamed, and she was sure now that the pulsating, burning sensation in her abdomen was what was causing the dirt beneath her to become wet and sticky.

She didn’t dare look.

She tried to push through the stars, as she forced her eyes to open despite the new heavy weight that seemed to lull the darkness at the corners of her eyes to seep in.

The black of the tunnel seemed to stretch longer and longer as her head began to swim like before, but with a vengeance this time. Suddenly, shouting voices seemed to come and go as her hearing started to cut out and ring in her ears. Confusion swarmed her mind as she couldn’t make sense of anything going on around her.  
She didn’t even know where her sword was by this point.

Her forearms shook violently, and she dropped back to the ground—defeated.

Her eyes opened wearily for one last moment before the darkness of unconscious embraced her.

She could’ve sworn she saw an unmasked soldier fall to the ground in front of her with a large gash scratched into his cheek by a slender hand with five dark nails.

Her last thought was to the eight pink scars that lined her back—a gift from her old friend, Catra. She almost thought she could feel them stinging again.

She didn’t dwell too long on it though, because soon everything stopped.

And Adora let the darkness behind her eyelids surround her until she couldn’t feel anything anymore.


	2. A Chance Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra drops in unannounced after being thought dead, a lot has changed.

Lonnie, slowly backed away from the mysterious figures that had ambushed her squad. Normally she’d be headstrong and push fear to the back of her conscious—but at the sudden appearance of Catra… 

Uncertainty took the forefront of her mind.

Catra stood up from the man on the ground and looked at her claws, wiping them off as if the blood on them was just a nuisance. 

Lonnie couldn’t help but stare, she was the last one standing.

Catra sighed a deep breath, and turned to return the look back to Lonnie. She was surprised to not quite find malice or anger in her two differently colored eyes, but some sort of regret? Maybe guilt? She wasn’t sure.

Catra stepped over the moaning bodies that had collapsed to the ground, coming closer. 

“Hey Aster, see what you can do to help Adora?”, she called over her shoulder to gently ask a smaller boy standing behind her. He nodded quickly before practically jumping over to inspect Adora, who was unconscious on the ground. 

He looked so much like Catra, but he had darker brown skin and markings, with trimmed auburn hair that almost fell into his bright green eyes. He seemed like a good natured boy.

Catra stared at Lonnie’s feet when she spoke, “These guys should be fine. They should get patched up but, we didn’t kill them.”

Lonnie held her arms closer to herself, “You’re really alive…”, she managed to whisper.

Catra grimaced and checked back on her friends who were shifting uncomfortably around the soldiers, watching Catra’s every move with curiosity. 

“Yeah—well, I was under the impression that I wasn’t going to be alive after being chased out, but here I am,” she drawled gesturing to herself. 

Lonnie frowned, “That doesn’t really seem like you, Catra, does it?”

“No—I wasn’t myself,” Catra’s ears twitched with anxiety to Lonnie’s surprise.

She wondered what made Catra’s presence so different from when she last saw her… It felt like she’d missed out on something important that the small group of other cat-hybrid people were aware of.

Lonnie opened her mouth, then to only quickly close it. She wanted to say something but had stopped herself.

Catra watched carefully, “What? Wanna say something to me? Because now is probably the only chance. I don’t plan on seeing you again…”, she said pointedly.

Lonnie looked back into her eyes and Catra didn’t like the sincerity they showed this once.

“Catra, we’ve,” Lonnie took a breath to rein herself in, “we’ve missed having you back home. It’s not the same, without Scorpia and you. Something bad is going to happen—I can feel it… We don’t know what’s goin’ on and we’re scared… I just wanted to let you know. If you even care...”

Catra pursed her lips and clenched her hands, trying to wrangle in her own emotions. Taking a deep breath she gained the dignity to match Lonnie’s stare again, “Look, I can’t stay here and chat,” she rubbed her hands over her eyes and pushed her now loose bangs back from her face, “but… What I can tell you Lonnie, is that now, you have the best chance to run. I’d go—get far away from Hordak.”

Lonnie looked at her in disbelief, “Months ago, you’d threaten to do anything to force people to stay loyal to the Horde—what changed?”

Catra let her hands find their way to rest on her hips, “Scorpia left… And then I lost all of Hordak’s, favor, I guess. I had nothing there—or anywhere. It made me stop caring,” she paused and Lonnie wasn’t sure if she’d continue until she flicked her tail nervously. 

“After I got chased out, things started to pick up. I found something better than the Horde—and as much as I hate to admit it… Lonnie, it took losing everything to get me to leave. But you, you have the chance I should’ve taken a year ago,” she admitted.

Lonnie straightened herself, “You’re just going to let me go?”

Catra crossed her arms to hug herself tightly, “I don’t want to hurt you, Lonnie.”

Lonnie nodded and hesitantly took a step away from the outcrop and towards the woods. She looked around at everyone, and took a few more away from Catra. The feline watched as Lonnie made her way along the rocky ledge with her boots clunking against the stone. 

The girl stopped for a minute—and turned around abruptly, “What are you going to do with Adora?”, she asked.

Catra tensed, and looked to her friend Aster. The small boy had his hands over one another pressed to Adora’s abdomen, applying pressure to a bleeding wound.

“She’s coming with us,” she gestured to the rest of her group she’d brought along with her, “other than that—I don’t know,” Catra said distantly.

Lonnie noticed, “Well, take care of her. I wish we didn’t have to find her out here.”

Catra almost smirked, “Yeah… I kinda wish we didn’t either.”

“I’m glad you did though,” Lonnie knew despite everything—Catra still had a weakness for the girl. 

She turned to head back wherever the woods brought her. Whether that be the Horde, or somewhere else—she had a long trek back to figure it out.

Catra called back, “We’ll see how she feels about it when she wakes up. Good luck, Lonnie. Don’t follow us!”

Lonnie managed to smile one last time, “Wasn’t planning on it,” she replied, before she was out of earshot and into the night. 

* * *

Catra watched as Lonnie walked back into the woods. She didn’t quite know how she felt—but it felt like the most closure she’d had in months. It felt somewhat good.

The men splayed around her didn’t look like they’d be ready to get up anytime soon. Most were moaning, and the rest—unconscious. 

Good, she thought, they wouldn’t be following any of us tonight. 

Aster’s polite voice suddenly broke her from her thoughts, “Hey, uh… Catra?”

Catra turned around to find the smaller Magicat’s hands covered in Adora’s blood—and a concerned look to his face. That caught her attention pretty quickly.

“Shoot. That doesn’t look too good…”, Catra quickly made her way around the carnage to where Aster sat on the ground, with his bigger sister Amaya squatting next to him.

Amaya looked almost identical to Aster, except she was older by a year or two, and she was the brute to Aster’s nurturing manner. She had the muscles Aster had neglected to gain, and her own hair was much longer than his as it was pulled into a fishtail that went down her back. 

They couldn’t be more different, despite them both having the same parentage.

“No—she’s been bleeding pretty steadily the entire time you had you’re lil’ chit-chat over there,” Amaya deadpanned. 

Catra snarled, “Don’t test me right now Amaya… I grew up with her.” Catra shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other in a way that Amaya had seen her do before when she didn’t want to elaborate on things. 

Amaya tried to drop it out of respect.

“Sorry, but this one seems pretty important to you—Aster over here has been tryin’ to keep her together,” she stood up to meet Catra’s gaze.

Catra quickly broke it to stare at the unconscious girl at her feet. Her iconic red jacket had a deep red stain growing from her abdomen, and the rest of her was dirty and scuffed up. The wound on her leg looked pretty horrific. Even her perfect blonde ponytail had just about come undone.

Aster looked up at Catra from where his hands rested on Adora, “She won’t wake up anytime soon, especially if we don’t get her back to where we can treat her as soon as we possibly can…”, he said softly.

Catra grimaced, “Okay, fine. Amaya, could you carry her? Hey, Nia, Ezra—” she called over to the other two Magicats standing idly among the carnage from their fight. “Could you help me look for a big sword?”

Nia, a Magicat with a lighter complexion and golden hair furrowed her eyebrows to sit just above her warm brown irises at Catra, as she helped to carefully lift Adora into Amaya’s arms. “What? Why are we looking for a sword?”, she questioned reasonably. 

“Uh...Because it’s kinda important!”, Catra quipped.

Ezra, who’s dark appearance rivaled Nia’s fairer one, was already searching around the battle site. His blue eyes shone in the moonlight, but as the night went on his black hair began to match the shade of the sky.

“I don’t see anything—I could’ve sworn I saw it drop over here,” he pointed a ways away from Adora’s bloodied patch on the rock face, “Then that girl you were talking to picked it up while we were hiding in the woods, and I guess when we ambushed them… She must’ve dropped it again?”, he said as he snooped around. Ezra kicked an unconscious soldier over on his side with his foot to look underneath with no avail. 

Catra left Amaya and Aster to watch Adora, as she stomped over to the two of them herself to search around.

“It’s gotta be here somewhere… How do you just lose a big-ass sword so easily, Adora?”, she muttered under her breath. 

Nia jumped over a soldier or two to reach the edge of the rocky outcrop, “Well, maybe when we attacked… Um… What if she dropped the sword and it fell over the edge?”, she called from where she kneeled to look down at the ravine where the river rushed along. 

Catra’s stomach was twisting itself in knots already. She had found Adora by chance in the woods, and managed to surprise ambush an entire squad of heavily armed guards after they managed to take down She-ra, let Lonnie go after finding her alive, and now she couldn’t even find the blasted sword. 

As much as she hated to admit it—the Sword of Protection was actually a pretty big deal.

She hadn’t even brought Adora, or better—the She-Ra, back to Half Moon yet.

Catra groaned and smoothed her hands over her face to cover her eyes. She pressed her palms to her eyelids and let them sit there, colors beginning to form in the darkness behind her lids.

It was the first night she was allowed outside the boundary after she’d recovered and she’d already managed to find trouble—what would her mother think?

A warm touch found its way to Catra’s shoulder.

“Hey Catra—listen,” Nia sounded concerned, “if it’s too much now, let’s take this girl of yours back home and figure out the rest later. We can try and come back to look for the sword or whatever later.”

“It’s not just a sword—it’s She-Ra’s sword…” Catra bit her lip.

“I’m sure we will find it around here if we come back, and hopefully these guys won’t be able to find it either. I think they’ll be gone by then. Let’s go home,” Ezra whispered in his typical cool manner trying to diffuse the situation going on in Catra’s head. 

She took a deep breath in and uncovered her eyes, letting it go. Catra found herself unable to conceal the one tear that had managed to break through the dam. 

“Shit. I’m sorry, guys,” she tried to wipe it away but only found herself breaking down even more. 

Amaya walked over with a pale Adora in her arms—Aster in tow. 

“We’ve seen you get like this before and it always ends with you hurting yourself… We can’t afford that right now if this girl right here means anything to you, let’s get home and we can focus on all this crap later, okay?”, Amaya nudged Catra’s shin playfully to get her moving. 

“I don’t think I’ll be allowed back out here if my mom has anything to say about this…”, Catra said, almost terrified. Catra was usually one to push the rules and break them. But recently, she was quite literally in new territory. It felt like she was treading on thin ice, and she didn’t know the limits yet. 

“Catra your mum will understand, I’m pretty sure she’s dealt with worse things. Nothing bad will happen if we go home now. The sword will find it’s own way back, it’s magic and stuff, right?”, Ezra smirked comfortingly. 

Catra turned to look him in the eyes, her face scowled, “It’s like the most important weapon in Etheria, Ez…” 

Aster piped in before anyone else could butt in, “Catra, sword or no sword, Adora here is going to either die of blood loss or infection pretty soon if we don’t get her home. The sword needs to wait—we can help you deal with this together.”

Catra sniffled abruptly and shook her head, “Okay, it’s fine—everything is fine! Let’s go back, who cares about ‘the key to the planet’ anyway! Not me,” she said, her voice wavering slightly as she began to work her way back in the direction of the tunnels to Half Moon. 

Amaya stayed close and Aster helped her keep a hand pressed to Adora’s wound. Nia and Ezra shared a worried look for their friend but decided it was best to roll with it now that they’d managed to lure her into going back home. 

Catra clenched her hands into fists and unsheathed her claws, pressing them into her palms subconsciously. It was only her first night back out in the open since they’d found her—and she didn’t want to ruin the trust she’d managed to build up back in her new home. 

Catra knew the others must’ve been uncomfortable when she had stopped them from walking back in time for curfew in front of a bunch of Horde soldiers. More specifically because she had spotted two girls from her past—which she’d rather not talk about in front of them. Being out of Half Moon after she’d been swaddled by her own kind for no more than a couple of months made her feel vulnerable. 

She kept walking forward and looked over her shoulder as her company followed her on the way home. 

“None of you guys mention what you saw here tonight… None of this gets out, and if any of it does—so help me I’ll—“

“You’ll kill us or whatever, Catra gods we get it, you don’t like to cry in front of others because you think it’s weak. It’s not, you know—it’s good to know you have emotions,” Nia laughed. 

“Well look where it’s gotten me. I’m hereby forcing you guys to have to come with me to have to explain this to my mother,” Catra whipped her head back to look ahead.

“Of course we are… You’re the Princess afterall,” Nia drawled.

Ezra snickered, “I don’t think I’d want to miss the sight of the Queen of Half Moon learning her daughter managed to sneak in the unconscious She-Ra into her kingdom.”

“You know what?”, Catra spat, “That’s it—no more talking until we get through the tunnels! That’d be nice. The only exception being Aster if he needs to say something about Adora.”

Amaya looked betrayed as she carefully shifted Adora in her arms, “HEY, WHAT DID I DO?”

Her brother shot Catra a sympathetic smile her way.

Catra groaned, “Nothing—just can’t stand to listen to any of you, except Aster, for the rest of this trip, especially if I’m talking to my mom about this when we get home…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no! The sword isn’t in sight! Dare I say, a coincidence for the plot’s sake? (Yes, yes it is.)  
Kudos and comments are appreciated!


	3. Try to Rest Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora wakes up to a friendly face, and Catra is unsure of herself.

Adora had figured from an early age, that after an injury—the hardest part was waking up in the infirmary. Going down seemed like so much less work than trying to wake up when your eyelids are made of lead and your limbs are so stiff it’s like they are somehow tied down to the mattress.

The worst part though, was the splitting headache that always greeted you when you regained consciousness to the waking world. It made you feel like your body was floating underwater sometimes, and the world was constantly moving and shifting.

Adora’s head pulsed with her heartbeat—which she took as a good sign once she managed to think somewhat clearly. She wasn’t sure that when she went down, she’d wake up again with a heartbeat. 

The light that hid behind her eyelids was tempting—but just as irritating and harsh as the searing pain in her side when she shifted to feel the soft sheets and mattress beneath her. 

Adora wanted to stretch and move, but the pulsating sting and what felt like a warm hand kept her from trying to squirm around. She was suddenly very aware of how uncomfortable she was, and Adora managed to groan. She noted how dry and scratchy her voice was when the sound died out in the back of her throat. 

“You might want to lie still for a little while longer,” a soft voice calmed her. She winced in anticipation for it to hurt her already aching head—but it was surprisingly gentle. It seemed to belong to the hand pressed to her chest.

When the touch was abandoned, she found herself missing the warmth from the palm. It was just about enough to make her eyelids flutter open in curiosity rather than stay closed due to the exhaustion that weighed her down. 

A shorter figure with a hazel like hue came into view when she managed to keep them open long enough to attempt to focus. Light flooded in as well as the shapes that came in and out of focus from around the small room. The area she was in had a warm glow from the lanterns hung around, and stone brick walls with carved wooden supports. She couldn’t seem to spot any windows from where she was. 

The figure moved from where it had been standing opposite the bed Adora found herself in, and came closer again. 

“Sorry that you woke up so soon,” the figure had small ears that twitched while they worked on replacing something out of her limited view, “I should’ve given you more meds so that you could sleep longer…”

Adora wanted to reply, but her throat was raspy and she regretted making sounds earlier, so instead she coughed. She soon realized she regretted that too—because a flare of hot pain stung her side and made her dizzy. 

“Oh—um hold on, sorry!”, the little guy seemed to apologize a lot. 

Adora managed to turn her head on the pillow to find that the figure was pouring a metal pitcher of water into a cup at her side. Once it was almost full to the top, they scooted closer and lifted her up carefully with a soft hand to the back while supporting her head.

“Sorry, you probably need to take a drink. You’ve been out for a while… And just as a warning, moving around a lot is going to hurt. So, I think you should try to take it easy for right now,” from how close the figure was to her, Adora could see that he was probably a younger boy. He seemed to remind her a lot of Catra. 

Her cracked lips were met with the cup and she sipped down the water gingerly despite her thirst. She felt a few dribbles of water escape her mouth and roll off her chin. 

“Yeah—it’s good not to drink too fast…”, the boy smiled as he pulled away the cup and set it back on the table beside the bed, and traded it for a rag to clean off her chin. She let him wipe off the excess water without flinching away from the touch.

The boy softly put Adora back down onto the pillows, and wiped his hands off on the apron he wore over his cream colored tunic.

“Is that any better?”

Adora took a hesitant breath in and hummed in affirmation, while studying his face as he stood back. He noticed her staring, and pulled a stool beside the bed with a loud creek from the floor. 

“Would you mind some company?”, he smiled and a flash of a tooth poked from behind his lips in a familiar fashion. 

Adora kept her head turned towards him as she looked him over a couple times and attempted to speak, “N-no,” she hoarsed with some effort. 

The boy laughed—it sounded light and airy, “Okay, well that’s a relief… You’re handling this a lot better than I expected you to, I thought I’d have to keep you down onto the bed! But that’s probably just the pain medication I gave you earlier doing it’s job, it makes most folks mellow out.”

Adora watched his quiet manner blossom into something more cheery and she almost felt like she was dreaming—he looked like Catra but he was so obviously not her…

She cleared her throat to try and speak again, “You look like Catra…”, she croaked. Her voice was stronger this time, but her head still felt a bit foggy.

The boy’s ears flicked and he leaned his elbows on his knees—putting up his palms to cup his chin. “Well… I would suppose you’ve never met another Magicat before now, have you?”

Adora shook her head innocently, “What’s your name?”

He smiled, “My name is Aster, and you must be Adora?”

A moment passed where Adora registered what he said and she blinked, “H-how do you know my name?”, she whispered in surprise. 

He looked taken aback and brushed his auburn bangs back from his forehead nervously, “Oh um… Sorry, I’ve heard stories about you I guess…”

Adora wondered what that meant…

“About the legend of She-Ra?”, she asked warily.

“N-no, not per say… Just about you I guess,” he looked away from her and his green eyes scanned the infirmary. He turned his head back to meet her gaze, “But that aside—do you know where you are?”

Aster tried to change the subject quickly, and if he was lucky—Adora was still delirious enough to not pay much attention to it. As much as he wanted to help Catra, it was her responsibility to talk to Adora and it wasn’t a good idea to start off talking about Catra either. Adora had just woken up, and Aster knew from experience it’s good not to stir the pot while someone is just coming back from unconsciousness. Especially, since Aster knew more snippets of Catra’s past than most of their other friends did. 

Adora looked around the room again and then furrowed her brows in thought, “An infirmary?”

“Hah—well yeah, this is where I work most of the time… But, not exactly what I was getting at,” he played with his claws in his hands, “We are in a kingdom called Half Moon if you were wondering.”

Adora’s nose crinkled, “Half Moon? Never heard of it.”

“Heh—that’s probably the case with most people from the outside world. Half Moon is hidden from Etheria to keep it extra safe,” the boy chuckled.

Adora nodded carefully and looked up at the ceiling, “What’s with the stone?”, she asked after studying it. She managed to shake an arm out from the sheet she was under, and pointed her right hand with the IV Aster had put inside her arm earlier, keeping her from extending it too far. Her index finger traced the designs etched into the stone above them. 

Aster smiled a bit brighter, “Half Moon is underground, and hidden within a mountain. Everything here is carved out of stone and terrain, or built out of stone bricks and tiles.” He watched Adora follow the pretty hand work with her eyes, “The engravings and hand painted ceilings—that’s just a technique we took from our old home before Half Moon moved into the mountain for safety. It’s used throughout Magicat architecture.”

Adora put her arm down and settled it on her chest, still searching the ceiling for something that probably wasn’t there. Aster sat quietly—willing to talk more if she wanted to. 

Adora breathed a heavy sigh and opened her mouth, and then closed it. He could see the gears slowly turning in her head. 

“You can ask whatever is on your mind,” Aster offered.

Adora shifted uncomfortably, “How—how did I get here?”

Aster cupped his knees with his hands and bit his lip trying to find the best possible answer, “Uhhh… Well my friend brought you in from a fight. She said we needed to help you because it was important.” 

He still managed to abstain from mentioning Catra yet—and that normally they don’t really take in outsiders from their hunting trips. The only reason it was really important to help Adora was because Aster knew it was important to Catra. 

Adora nodded, it seemed to suffice. 

“What’s the damage?”

Aster stood up and scooted the stool backwards. He reached for the edge of the sheet and gently peeled it back so Adora could look at herself. 

Adora found she wasn’t wearing much more than her training bra and her shorts, but what really alarmed her was the angry wound on her abdomen. 

Aster pointed to the icky stained gauze that was wrapped and taped over her bruised skin, “You were shot with a new high capacity laser gun and it hit just to your right handed side, beside your belly button. I went in and sutured it closed, but it needs time to heal so that your tissues can patch up.”

Adora watched with grim fascination as he continued, “And down here,” he uncovered her tightly wrapped leg from the sheet, “you were also shot in the leg—just above the kneecap. You messed it up pretty bad in the fight, and got it really dirty, so I’m worried about infection… I cleaned it up though, and while you were out, I did my best to repair it. It’s going to take a lot of work to get it back to what it used to be… If that’s even possible.”

“Oh,” Adora sighed shakily as the gravity of the situation finally began to register, and Aster pursed his lips. 

She’d been in worse situations lately, although she’d never been in this bad of shape before. 

How was she supposed to tell Glimmer or Bow where she was, or that she was even alive? 

Did Swift Wind know where she was? 

How was she supposed to get home?

They needed her, everyone needs She-Ra to feel safe right now. Especially her friends…

Where was her sword?

“Did you—or anyone, or whoever found me… Did they happen to find a sword laying around?”, she asked him warily. 

“Look—I’m sorry…”, he began as he pulled up the sheet back up to Adora’s chest and let her arm rest on top of it, “We didn’t find a sword, or at least not yet.”

Aster watched as Adora clenched her fist in the sheet and looked back up to gaze at the ceiling with glassy blue eyes. 

She looked really tired.

Aster thought it’d be best to stop for now.

“You still need a lot more rest—and I can answer more of your questions later! If you have any. Actually I’m sure you have a lot… Sorry. But, you should try to not think about your sword for now—and go back to sleep. We will help you the best we can, Adora.”

The blonde looked distant and didn’t respond as Aster waited patiently for any sort of reply, so he clasped his hands together in front of himself and turned to leave from where he stood at her bedside.

“I’m going to see if I can find some more antibiotics and anything that may help you sleep better in the supply room next door—feel free to call for me if you need anything,” he said softly before he reached the door.

“Aster?”

The young boy turned around right as he was about to put his hand on the door handle, and his ears pricked up at Adora’s voice.

“You say sorry too much,” she mumbled as she brushed a loose piece of blonde hair out of her face and behind her ear. 

Aster looked confused for a moment and then snorted, “Heh—I get that a lot from my sister…”

Adora gave him a kind little smile, “Thank you for the help, but why are you doing this for me?”

“It’s just my job—don’t worry about it, I’m just passionate about it I guess…”, He rubbed his hand up and down his arm.

Adora cocked her head curiously, “So much so that you’d help a stranger?”

“Yes. I’d help anyone, even if I don’t quite understand them,” he looked away from her gaze and to the door.

“You seem like a good friend, Aster.”

“I hope so,” he sighed.

A bit awkwardly, Aster turned to finally open the door into the hallway, “Well—I’ll be next door. Take it easy and please try to sleep some more, Adora. I’ll be back in a little bit to check on you.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Adora silently watched as he slipped out into the warmly lit hallway, and shut the door quietly behind himself. 

Even though she couldn’t help but feel the static that still clung to the inside of her head, Adora could tell Aster was being careful. He was trying to help her—and he sounded genuine… But something was bothering her. 

And it wasn’t the fact that she didn’t have a clue where her sword was.

She’d never heard of Half Moon before—and yet here she was. In a place where the first person she met reminded her viscerally of Catra, and it left her utterly confused. It felt like maybe she should be here too somehow, like she belonged to these Magicats rather than the Horde.

Adora was more vulnerable now, and honestly she didn’t know if she should be relieved to be pulled out of the mess she and her friends were in—or more stressed and scared because of it. 

Although for the time being, she decided to choose not to care about it—and that seemed like the only decision she could make for herself right now.

She’d ask more questions later, when her head felt more focused, and hopefully they’d be kind enough to let her contact the Rebellion—specifically to tell Glimmer and Bow not to worry about her safety. And then maybe tackle the magical sword being missing in action problem afterwards. 

Trying to ignore the heavy urge to get up and find a way out of here, and the thrumming ache throughout her body, Adora closed her eyes shut from staring up at the ceiling. 

She willed herself to trust Aster, and simply sleep until she felt strong enough to face the world again. 

* * *

“How is she?”

Aster had barely gotten the chance to catch his breath after closing the door. 

Catra was sitting against the wall, practically hunched over herself. His friend had changed into a long sleeved red tunic for the night, and some loose dark pants that cuffed at her ankles. She had probably been eavesdropping on he and Adora’s conversation through the wood of the door for a while now. Her tail uncurled itself from around her as she slowly rose to her feet, meeting Aster. 

“You’d know, if you’d talk to her yourself—Catra,” the younger boy sighed and rubbed his bangs off of his face. 

Catra snickered sarcastically while she rolled her eyes, “Like that would go well between the both of us.”

“I know, I know—but even as she’s still a bit out of it, she’s catching onto the fact that this is somehow tied to you. Or at least, her being here isn’t just a coincidence,” Aster looked into Catra’s eyes, and hoped she understood. 

Catra stared back with a heavy grudge, but her ears flattened and her tail curled anxiously. She was conflicted.

Adora was still a sore subject between them. 

“Aster—I don’t know if this was a good idea. I know I said I regret not fixing things between us, or at least not talking about our past more—but, maybe I shouldn’t have… Ugh,” Catra snarled and shut her eyes. She pinched the bridge of her nose, “I don’t know what I was thinking. I don't know what I am thinking.”

“I know we said we’d help you, and I even promised to help you. But, you have to be willing to help yourself too, Catra. I can’t do all the work for you—you have to be the one to talk to her in the end. I know you don’t want to be as manipulative as you always told me you feared. Please, just trust me on this one,” Aster put a reassuring hand on Catra’s forearm. He half expected her to swat it off like usual, but instead she let it sit where he placed it.

“It’s hard to trust people Aster,” Catra dropped her hand from her face and crossed her arms instead. Aster always saw it as her way of building a barrier. 

“I know it’s hard for you. You wouldn’t talk to me for days when you came in... But you trust me now, don’t you? When have I ever let you down?”, he asked.

Her face flinched as she tried to think through what she was feeling, “Never. But that doesn’t mean—“

Aster cut her off before she could say what he knew she would say, “Catra, I won’t. But you have to let me help you like I did before… Or it won’t work. Trust works both ways, I know you know that now.”

Catra scowled and looked down at her feet, and Aster could see her muscles stiffen. He knew she was digging her claws into her palms behind her fisted hands so he wouldn’t see. 

Aster took a chance—and untucked her arms from her chest. He took both of her hands in his and unraveled her fingers carefully, “I’ve talked with Adora for what, twenty minutes now? And she seems willing to just—talk. I’m sure she’d talk to you.”

She didn’t try to squirm out of his grip. 

He knew her tricks by now and Catra knew his.

To be honest—Catra missed having this contact. Warm, firm, and supportive. It reminded her of how Scorpia would reassure her, or how Adora would hold her hands and wrists.

Catra shook her head and kept her eyes trained on the floor, “But would you think she’d listen? Aster you have no idea what even happened between us…”

“Who stayed with you your first nights in the infirmary?”, Aster asked in a more serious tone.

Catra gave him a wary look, “Uh, you did?”

“Who bandaged your cuts after you hurt yourself and listened to you open up for the first time?”, He asked her again softly squeezing her hands.

“You,” Catra mumbled. 

Aster smirked this time, “Who introduced you to his sister and friends because you needed to get out of your stuffy room?”

Catra rolled her eyes back at him, “I don’t see where this is going—but you did.”

“Who came to find you during your celebration when you had run away from the crowd? Might I add—I scaled up a literal wall to get to the highest point in Half Moon to find you,” he added, and Catra glared at him as if to tell him if he dared to continue she’d turn down the hall and leave.

“I do have an idea, I have lots. I was there and I listened to everything you told me,” Aster said without looking away from Catra’s glare. 

It sounded genuine, and something deep inside Catra told her not to believe it. 

She still didn’t know what to believe anymore. 

“Aster, you have never let me down—I know that,” Catra said before letting go of his hands. “But, it’s more complicated than that with Adora. You wouldn’t understand.”

Aster still didn’t look away and it made Catra uncomfortable how wholesome he was, and how it reminded her of Adora. “I know it is, and maybe I don’t understand, but I know that’s why it will take time,” he clasped his hands down in front of his apron.

Catra sighed, “I feel like we don’t have enough time.”

Aster quickly put his hands on his hips, “You have plenty—Adora is in no shape to walk out of here anytime soon, Catra,” he shook his head, “You just want things to go back to the way they were between you two right away.”

He had no idea.

Catra shifted uncomfortably at the memory of the perfect world from the portal, and she shoved it back in her mind for another time.

“She’ll want to go back to her rebellion as soon as possible,” Catra changed the subject. “I’m not worth staying around for her anymore.”

She knew Adora hated her for what she’d done. 

So why did she think that saving her would fix anything between them? Why did she think it would make up for anything she’d done?

Why did she think it’d make her feel better about herself?

Aster gave her a small, comforting smile, “Well, use the time she has here while she has to stay put to work through what you can. That’s all I can say…”

Catra didn’t look like she had much more to fight back with, and so he walked around her to the storage room where the Magicat healers kept herbs and extra medications or supplies outside of the infirmary. 

Aster took out a small key and opened the door to rummage around, “I’ve seen you go through many different challenges while you’ve been here—I’m sure you’ll come out of this one just fine too. It’s like when your first met your mom and dad.”

Catra leaned her back against the doorframe and watched Aster pick out a small bag of some kind of liquid from the ice box and look through a few vials of different medications as she spoke to him, “Talking to C’yra and Felix was different, they didn't quite have the history I do with Adora… I’m their princess—I didn’t get to grow up with them.”

Aster found what he needed on a shelf above him and grabbed the blue-ish vial, “You’re not just a princess… You’re their daughter, Catra. And then maybe you two need to figure out how to move on.”

Catra turned to stand in the door frame as the small boy was ready to walk out of the small room with an unreadable look on her face, “Adora said things can never go back to how they were, Aster.”

Aster’s ears twitched, and he stared at her nonchalantly, “Well, they probably won’t—you know, things change…”

Catra pursed her lips and looked away down the hall, standing back from the doorway. Aster stayed where he was despite Catra giving him space to leave the conversation. 

She slightly appreciated that.

Catra’s face softened, “What do you think that means for us?”, she asked in a whisper. 

Aster readjusted his hold on the meds in his arms, “I think that’s for you two to work out, together.”

Catra wasn’t even sure where to start, when she really thought about it. 

“You’ve always been the one who’s not afraid to tell me like it really is…”, despite the overwhelming feeling of anxiety building in her chest—Catra tried to smile, but it came out as forced and Aster could tell she was trying to cover it up. “Thanks for the help, bud,” she awkwardly patted Aster on the head, messing up his hair slightly. 

He smiled just as he stepped back out into the hall to close the door behind him, “We just want you to be happy with yourself Catra. I’ve got your back.”

Catra froze up for a moment, unintentionally.

Aster cocked his head—checking her over, “Everything good with you?”

He sounded so much like Scorpia, if only for a second.

She was a whole other mess Catra knew she needed to tackle, and the guilt seemed never ending. 

She blinked and shook her head, “It’s nothing…”

Aster laughed quietly, since it was getting late, “When you’re thinking that hard I know it’s not just nothing.”

Catra took in a deep breath and pushed her loose bangs off her face, “You just sound like another old friend of mine, that’s all…”, she said carefully. 

Aster pursed his lips trying to understand what Catra was talking about, but in the end he decided not to push her to open up more. 

He smiled gently instead, “Kitten steps, Catra. One at a time—okay?”

Catra felt stupidly fragile all of a sudden, “Okay, yeah sure.”

Aster was about push open the infirmary door with Catra behind him, while Adora waited inside—probably asleep. Catra quickly stepped back into the hallway reflexively. Aster turned with all the medical supplies in his arms and looked to her as if she had anything else left to say.

Catra settled with her arms back into their original crossed position as she stood awkwardly in the cavernous hallway, “I’m going to bed, Mom wants to have breakfast with me in the morning. Come get me if anything changes throughout the night.”

Aster nodded before grabbing the door handle, “You’ll know where we’ll be if you want to talk.”

Catra quickly turned and nodded a quick goodbye back to the boy, “Yup—G’night, Aster.”

She began to walk down the lantern lit hall back to her room.

Before the door creaked open, she heard Aster whisper to her, “Goodnight, Catra.”

More than anything she wanted to be able to see that Adora was in that room, despite the fact she knew she brought her to the infirmary. 

It just didn’t feel quite like the reality of her actions had settled in yet.

She wished she was Aster, able to take care of her.

Instead, here she was—cowering in her own little hole just a few halls of the palace away from Adora, rather facing her own problems. 

She wasn’t sure she could even bring herself to look at Adora or even show her face after their last encounter—let alone talk to her. 

Catra couldn’t help but dig her claws back into the flesh of her palms as she practically raced back to her room in the emptiness of the hallways. Aster would be mad if he was around to notice, but Catra didn’t really care if it hurt.

Turns out that after all she’d worked through this last month or so, she still didn’t really care for even herself.

The stinging pain in her palms kept her grounded and away from her thoughts that began to run amuck in her head as she reached her room.

Sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight, if it does at all.

She knew there were probably better ways to handle these feelings she had coursing through her, although she rather preferred how easy it was to cope by hurting herself over the possibility of someone else making her feel more hurt by forcing her to be vulnerable.

Afterall—nothing was too low for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eheheh dual conflict!  
Also, expect names you’ve probably seen before mixed in here from other Catra stories—because I just think they’re neat.  
Also Aster is BEST BOY!  
Kudos and comments are appreciated!


	4. The Space Between

Catra stirred under the covers at the sound of a gentle creak from what she supposed was her door.

Her eyelids squeezed shut tight in protest of the light that filtered through them from the hallway outside, and her head ducked farther into the heap of pillows and blankets spread haphazardly on her bed.

Almost silent footsteps led up to where she laid, and Catra could practically feel a pair of eyes trained on her scruffy bedhead.

“Catra,” she heard being carefully whispered near her ear, “you’ve overslept—time to get up if you want breakfast with me this morning.”

Catra’s hair prickled on the back of her neck at the sound, and her toes curled in the warmth of the sheets. She groaned and managed to twist her head out of her comfy nest to face the world again. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and she blinked to find that the Queen of Half Moon was looking down upon her—or rather, her own mother.

“Did‘cha sleep at all, kitten?”, she asked her, watching Catra knead at the sheets and stretch out.

Once Catra had writhed around enough under the covers to wake up, she flopped over and onto her back to face the Queen.

All she gave as a response was a small shake of the head.

C’yra sighed, and straightened up—looking to Catra’s small bedside table, where she found a small bottle of a blue-ish liquid.

She grabbed it and turned it over in her calloused hands, “You took some nightshade essence to sleep last night?”

She earned another nod from her daughter, seemingly empty—devoid of emotion.

She came back over to the tired girl and sat on the bed, unprompted by Catra, which seemed to surprise her into pushing herself up into a sitting position with some effort.

“It’s almost all gone, love. This was full when I gave it to you last—how much d’you take last night and when?”, C’yra looked at her slightly concerned.

Catra’s eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t know, I just swigged some of it back, I guess,” she grumbled, her voice thick with sleep, “I took it around two in the morning.”

C’yra frowned, “That’s why you never showed up to meet me then… you took more than half the bottle too late, it’s a miracle you even woke up when I opened the door.”

Catra shook her head, “It takes a lot more than just some nightshade to knock me out…”

C’yra’s frown seemed to grow even more concerned.

Catra’s ears drooped, and she leaned back into the mattress to reflexively put distance between the two of them, “Didn’t mean to get you all worked up, sorry I didn’t make it on time.”

C’yra’s concerned frown grew into more of a grimace.

‘Great’, Catra thought.

She still couldn’t shake the inevitable feeling of the rising tension between she and Shadow Weaver constantly had whenever she scolded her, and for some reason she couldn’t let go of it whenever her mother looked at her slightly frustrated, or even disappointed.

She half expected a hit, or a slap, or a grab of the jaw whenever her mother counseled her on anything suspicious about her behavior.

For some reason—it never came, though.

C’yra always neatly tucked her hands under her armpits to defy her nature of reaching out, and kept her distance. She never sneered—instead she always creased her brow in a concerned look and crossed her arms.

It baffled Catra the first few times she did it, after the two of them had figured each other out. The look she gave was so uncharacteristic for the Queen’s nonchalant facade, that typically exuded an air of invulnerability and a somewhat annoyingly playful attitude.

“I just get worried that’s all. You’re not in trouble or anything…”, she gave the aforementioned concerned look she only seemed to reserve for dire situations. For some reason—just Catra in general was always included in that category.

“Yeah, well, I know,” Catra stiffened, despite the acknowledgement that she knew C’yra would never purposefully try to hurt her own daughter.

Although—Catra still had that small voice that warned her not to believe it.

Her mom’s head cocked to the side as she gave Catra a small once over, “You don’t look it, kitten.”

Catra couldn’t tell if she still loved or hated the warmth that managed to sneak onto her cheeks when her mother called her that name. It was meant to be endearing—and Catra was still getting used to it, and slowly she let it slide into their private conversations.

It was something Shadow Weaver had refused to allow her to have, a chance to be called an endearing term. It was starting to become something she could use to separate her past encounters from these new situations she found herself experiencing with her real mother everyday.

The love she got here at home was something much more genuine than she ever got back at the Horde.

Her mom knew her well enough now, to know when Catra’s body was betraying her facade. Catra tried to visibly loosen herself up under her mom’s careful watch, “You don’t need to worry about me that much, I’m doing fine.”

Catra’s tail uncurled and her ears twitched as she unfolded herself and slid out from under the covers more.

C’yra took it as an invitation to scoot closer to her on the bed, and brought her leg up from the floor to rest folded against the mattress, leaning forward expectantly, her hands curled to grip her ankle.

“You know I’m always going to worry about you,” she laughed in her usual manner.

Catra glared at her, “Of course you are.”

Her mom scoffed, “I am, because you tell me you’re doing fine—but on the other hand, I know you couldn’t sleep at all so you took almost a whole bottle of nightshade last night!”

It made Catra feel uneasy, “I’m sorry, it was a mistake… It won’t happen again.”

Sometimes having somebody so close to you after a year of forcing everybody so far away made you feel more vulnerable—Catra had come to realize.

She didn’t particularly like the feeling.

But C’yra seemed to be able to understand it in a way no one else could.

“Look Catra, I won’t be able to help you if you don’t let me in on what’s troubling you. You shouldn’t have to resort to downing sleeping potions when I’m here to talk to at night,” she shrugged her shoulders, and her dark brown hair tumbled over them. It was thick and coarse like her own.

Catra glanced away, looking at the expanse of her messy room, “Sometimes—I don’t feel like talking to you.”

A small pregnant pause filled the space between them and Catra hoped she hadn’t overstepped her bounds, or said something too disrespectful. She only meant for it to be truthful—most of the time Catra would rather hide herself away than struggle to grasp the right words to describe whatever emotions she was grappling with at the moment.

C’yra sighed and her tail flicked from one side to the other, “Catra, next time just please come wake me up, or even your dad. We don’t have to talk—just, come to us.”

C’yra waited for a snide reply to escape the teenager’s mouth—but instead all she got was a small nod.

She didn’t seem to dismiss Catra’s comment, but Catra could tell she was trying to cover up the fact that it did indeed seem to hurt her unintentionally.

Her mother gave her a sympathetic look since she didn’t try to fight back, “Just because you can handle these things alone, doesn’t mean you should.”

Catra let out a small puff of a shuddering breath and rubbed her bangs off her face before leaning forward to push her mother playfully on the shoulder, despite her attitude.

“Alright—I get it…”

C’yra chuckled and smiled, pushing her back with a soft hand.

Catra smirked at her mother in a weary fashion, “If you let me up, I’m still hungry and I’ll come to breakfast with you,” she said quietly.

Her mom bounced on the bed excitedly and her ears pricked up, “That’s Good! I might have a little something for you—when you actually manage to get your sorry arse to come down,” she jeered.

Catra felt tension lift from her shoulders, and suddenly breathing felt a little easier as the mood changed between she and her mother. C’yra was toying with her curiosity all of a sudden, which was a good sign.

Catra’s brows quirked and she snorted, “Okay, okay, let me be and maybe I’ll actually get up!”

“I have the right to annoy you as much as I like, young lady… Now get a move on!”, C’yra lightly growled and she quickly messed up Catra’s unruly mane of dark brown hair with a skritch of her claws to Catra’s scalp.

The younger feline batted her hand away, “Do not ‘young lady’ me—that’s reserved for Raiona,” she grumbled as she staggered off the bed.

C’yra leaned back on the mattress with her palms flat to the comforter, content.

“Well last time I checked, I’m the Queen, and therefore I can still make the rules of this household!”, she smirked in a strikingly similar fashion to Catra that rivaled her own contending nature.

Catra walked over to the small wooden dresser on the other side of the room and rifled through it to find a clean top, “This is a palace!”, she retorted as she spun around with a red sleeveless shirt in one of her hands.

C’yra patted her chest proudly, “I make the rules of this here palace, and land we govern then! Even better.”

Her mother pushed herself off of her bed and stalked over to the middle of the room, her arms crossed and her weight shifted onto one hip.

Catra shook her head in defiance as she waltzed over to a pile of dirty clothes in her swinging chair that hung from the ceiling, “Sure, sure.”

She found a pair of relatively clean pants by sniffing them—they didn’t smell too bad just yet.

C’yra laughed again while watching her daughter, “And make sure you never forget it!”

Catra rolled her eyes, “Oh, how can I not?”

How had her mom not left her room yet? Now, she was just trying to be a pain in the ass.

“Perfect!”, C’yra’s eyes wrinkled as her smirk grew. Her mother turned on her heel to leave the room and she stopped in the doorway, “I expect you in the den in ten minutes, or your father is going to eat all the lox!”

Catra feigned concern in her voice, “Oh no!”, she mocked as she peeled off her tunic and threw on the new top over her undershirt. She messed with the high neck of it and pulled her mane of hair out of the shirt with a sweep of her hands.

She could hear her mother’s cackle already halfway down the hall by the time she turned around to see her wooden door swing closed.

Catra’s smile waivered and she returned to rush to throw on a pair of dark cyan pants that cuffed at the ankles and were loose at the crotch, that made them easy to move around in. She pulled up the high waistband, tucking in her shirt, and grabbed some socks to protect the bottoms of her feet.

She sat down on the cool tile of the floor in front of her wall mirror, and slipped her clawed feet through the holes.

It was nice to finally have clothes that were tailored to who she really was, she thought—much easier than cutting a hole for a tail all by herself. 

As she finished, she looked up at her reflection.

Staring back at herself, she almost expected to see half of her face shrouded in inky oblivion, and vein-like cracks illuminating her skin.

Instead, she was almost pleasantly surprised to see somebody else she didn’t quite recognize.

This girl in front of her had dark hair that was still frizzy with sleep, and wild bangs that were no longer pinned back by a headpiece. Her eyes were still the same piercing blue and yellow, and although she sported heavy purple bags under them, they seemed to look more—alive? Her face was still flush with embarrassment, but her cheeks looked healthier from regular meals and a more balanced diet. She also had an abundance of dark freckles that danced across them, and they spread over the bridge of her nose.

Her ears twitched, while her tail curled and uncurled, as she studied her own mirror image.

Maybe the reason it was so hard to believe this girl on the other side of the mirror was herself—was because she’d never thought she’d be sitting around in gold trimmed garments, or anything other than the Horde regimented uniform attire.

Her fingers played with the gold fabric cuffs that held the loose cyan fabric from pooling at her ankles, and the gold trim that lined her throat.

It looked nice.

She liked how it suited her.

Getting up off the floor, she realized she’d probably taken a second too long to think, and whirled around to do a last minute check of herself before stepping out.

She spotted a glint from her old belt in the low light of her room, hanging off of one of the posts of her bed.

Catra quickly snatched it and ran out into the warmly lit hallway with a slam of her door, pulling the buckle through a hole in the leather to hang loosely at her hips.

She felt a small hint of pride in her chest as she sped through the halls with a gold crescent moon gleaming in the lantern light, replacing what used to be a Horde insignia.

* * *

Adora turned her head at the sound of the door clicking closed behind Aster as he stepped back into the room.

In his arms he carried a small quilt, and he brought it over to the bed and set it down.

“This should keep you from getting chilly for now,” he unfolded it at her feet and pulled it up to her hands, and she grasped it to pull it closer to her chest. 

Even though Aster had managed swipe Adora a loose tunic she could toss on over her bandages, she had been having chills all morning.

But—they were the kind of bone deep chills, that made you feel like you could bundle up to your neck and never feel quite warm enough.

“It was my mom’s old quilt she made, so be sure to be nice to it,” he smiled.

Adora studied the patchwork with her eyes from where she sat up on pillows behind her back, “Thank you.”

Aster sat back down on the stool beside her bed and yawned before speaking, “You must be hungry?”, he asked her.

Adora leaned back and closed her eyes, thinking of the prospect of food.

When did she last eat?

She wasn’t sure.

“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly. She felt lightheaded still, and anything sitting in her stomach didn’t sit well with her at the moment, “Can I have some more water though?”

Aster nodded and got up to refill the cup of water at her bedside, “You feel okay? You’ve been asking for a lot of water since you woke up last.”

Adora cleared her throat which felt a bit tender, “I’m fine—but my throat is a bit sore.”

Aster frowned, “Can you tell me if it gets worse?”

He handed her the cup of water and with shaky hands she took a sip, until she found herself tilting her head back and drinking the whole thing.

“I’ll do my best,” she breathed out as handed the empty cup back.

“Okay,” he looked at her carefully, “I just don’t want you to catch a fever, I was trying to avoid you having an infection…”

The boy raised a gentle hand to her forehead and pressed a palm flat against it—Aster’s face screwed up in thought.

“You’re not hot,” he hummed nervously.

He released his one hand from her head and put both his hands on his hips, thinking as he stood up. Adora watched him worry his lip with a small fang.

“I think it’ll be good for you if you have something to eat—it’ll keep your strength up… If I got you some soup, do you think you could stomach it?”, he cocked his head to the side as he looked back to her expecting an answer.

Adora didn’t feel up to eating much of anything but she understood—she didn’t feel like getting sick either, and her throat felt scratchy and raw. She didn’t like that it added to the thrumming ache that came from her abdomen, and her leg.

“I can try,” she rasped, before coughing a little, into her elbow.

She winced at the flare of heat that radiated from her wound, hissing a little as she pressed a hand over it to try and quell it’s sting.

Aster grimaced and refilled her cup of water, leaving it next to her on the small bedside table, before he untied his apron and hung it over the end of Adora’s small bed.

“I’m going to go to the kitchens, I’ll get you some soup, and be right back—please drink water, and try not to get any worse while I’m gone… I’ll be quick,” he sped to the door of the infirmary, on a mission.

Adora inhaled a raspy breath and leaned back, giving him a weak thumbs up.

Before he opened the door to slip out, he gave her a weary smile.

* * *

Catra crossed paths with one of the head guards, who nodded her way to acknowledge her presence this morning.

Catra had a strange relationship with the guards at Half Moon, and she wasn’t sure if her stay here had come to lessen some of the awkward stares she got in the hallways of the palace—or if it had increased them as she often snuck around to run off into the town square or the training grounds.

Catra glanced back at her, and politely nodded back.

It seemed to earn her some slight respect, because the woman opened the door to the den upon Catra’s arrival.

Normally Catra would fuss and say she could do it herself, but instead she took it a nice gesture and shot her a surprised look as she walked through.

“Look who’s finally decided to join us!”, C’yra mused from her seat at the table in the back of the room.

Catra’s somewhat good mood slightly diminished as her mother continued to tease her.

She walked up to the one empty wooden chair at the table across from her younger sister, who was ultimately ignoring her presence—if she had noticed she’d walked in at all. The nine year old girl had her nose stuffed in a book, much like what her father would probably rather be doing right about now.

Felix smiled from the opposite end of the table, his eyes wrinkling in that wholesome fashion that happens when one smiles too much over the years.

“Contrary to what your mother told you, I did not eat all the lox already—if that is you want any,” her father said, pushing a plate with a few cuts of wet salmon towards her.

Catra accepted the plate, tugging it toward her as her stomach reminded her that she forgot to eat dinner late last night before bed. It rumbled indignantly, and she mumbled a quiet ‘thanks’ to her father as he chuckled at her.

She grabbed a piece of crispy bread from the center of the table and used a butter knife to spread some creamy cheese onto the sliced loaf before plucking a piece of the fish and laying on top.

It was how Felix had taught her to eat it a while ago.

“What is it that you want to show me, mum?”, she breathed out before picking up her breakfast and taking a bite.

C’yra’s grin broadened and she snorted, “I don’t want to show you anything!”

Catra’s brow creased in annoyance.

C’yra smirked at the sight, “I have something to give you instead—a gift!”, she laughed and reached under the table to pull out a good sized box, settling it on the tabletop.

Catra shoved the rest of the piece of bread into her mouth and swallowed it whole, almost choking.

Katya finally peeked her little head over her book to see what the commotion was all about.

“What’s this—some kinda consolation prize for lasting this long living with you guys?”, Catra scoffed.

Her mother‘s face contorted, “What? No!”, she slid it to Catra along the table’s surface.

“It’s a gift for you, because we appreciate having you here with us…”, she smiled.

“So… Basically what I just said?”, Catra sneered playfully.

Felix laughed, a hearty sound, and C’yra shot him a scrutinizing glare.

“Just open the box already, Catra,” her mother drawled.

Catra honestly didn’t know what to expect from the package. It was not too big, but certainly not a little box either. It was tied up with a red ribbon at the top.

She stared at her father, confused, for any kind of hint as to what she should do.

“Go ahead, kiddo,” was all he said, and he nodded while grinning like an idiot.

Catra carefully unraveled the bow at the top and let the ribbon fall off, revealing the top of the box to be easily removable. Before she could pluck it off though, it shifted suddenly.

She shot her mom an accusing look, “What’s going on?”

C’yra looked back at her suspiciously, “Look inside and find out, kitten…”

Catra mumbled profanity under her breath and slowly lifted the wiggling top off the box.

Nothing happened for a second—and Catra stood up from her chair to peer inside.

In an instant, the sound of tiny nails grappling against the sides of the box gave way to a small fuzzy face popping out of the container.

Catra almost shrieked, and skidded back across the floor in surprise, covering her mouth with a hand to keep herself together.

“Woah there!”, Felix shot up at the table, holding out a flat palm.

Her father pushed in his chair and came around to reach his hands into the box and bring out the baby animal. He picked up the small ball of dark fur under the armpits and scooped up its butt end gently.

Catra slowly relaxed and looked at it curiously.

“What on Etheria is that thing!”, she gestured at the little monster in her dad was currently holding.

Her mother laughed without a second thought—embarrassing Catra, “Surprise!”

Her cheeks burned and she frowned.

Felix stroked the little one’s fur from where it was cradled in her father’s arms, right between the eyes of its forehead. The black haired creature closed its eyes and leaned into the touch, mewling. The sound it made was so small and shrill.

Catra picked up her chair from where it had ultimately fallen over after she’d rushed backwards, and she came towards her dad and the little cub to investigate.

Felix smiled looking to her, “This,” he carefully moved to transfer the small animal into Catra’s hold, “is a mountain lion… They were common in our homeland before we had to hide away in the mountain.”

Catra held open her arms without thinking as he plopped the little thing into her grasp.

It blinked unsuspectingly, and it’s warm body stretched into her arms. It opened its eyes back up to blankly stare into Catra’s with pure affection, as it rubbed its head against her chest and rumbled with the start of a purr.

“What… Why are you guys giving me, this?”, she asked, nodding to the creature in her arms.

Her mother shrugged as if it was a common known fact, “Because every great ruler of Half Moon has had a companion in battle, and this little cub—if cared for well, will grow into a strong creature that can ultimately fight by your side one day… if you so choose.”

Catra looked back down at the puny thing and then stared incredulously back at C’yra, “This little brat will grow up to be the size of Eos?!”

“Yes,” C’yra nodded, “if you take good care of her!”

Her mother had a large cat with golden fur, that was just about big enough to ride into battle on.

The idea of this little creature in her arms growing into the size of the animal her mother loved, just about as equally as her own daughters, slightly terrified Catra and exhilarated her.

Katya slammed her book shut on the table, “Why does Catra get to have a mountain lion when she hasn’t even earned one?”, the younger girl demanded, “Don’t you have to actually do something that benefits society?”

C’yra winced, “Tya! Hey, enough of that, Catra has certainly proved herself.”

Catra’s ears flattened—suddenly the new cub seemed more interesting than the table conversation, and she looked down at it’s innocent face.

Katya put her hands down on the table, “And how’s that?”, she whined at C’yra.

Her mom glanced at Catra and sighed, “She’s come a long way since living here—and that’s enough.”

Katya quickly gave her a look in response that said ‘I don’t fully understand your point and I expect we discuss this at length later.’

“I’m still here, you two,” Catra growled at the two of them.

She knew her mother had a hard time balancing both Catra’s world and Katya’s. They were two very different people—so much so, that Catra still hadn’t quite accepted that they were in fact blood relatives in the last month or two that they’d been living together.

Catra appreciated the security she had when she opened up to C’yra or Felix about her actions or past, but it was difficult to talk to Tya about it. Often she was left in the dark about a lot of things going on in Catra’s circle, and C’yra didn’t always know how to address that. Especially without spilling all of Catra’s secrets and breaking their newly formed trust by sharing too much.

It made Catra slightly self conscious to ask so much attention from her mother, although C’yra reassured her, much too often, that it was her job to respect her children and that Catra deserved that trust in her.

Maybe one day Catra would be able to explain to her sister why she was the way she was, but for now—she just has to accept that Catra had different needs and boundaries than she did. Even if her nine year old brain couldn’t quite understand everything going on in her sheltered world just yet.

“I apologize,” C’yra caught Catra’s glare and looked back at Katya.

She slumped back in her chair and crossed her arms under her mom’s gaze.

“This seems unfair to me,” she pouted.

“We’ll talk about this later Katya,” her mother closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, “if you’re so unhappy with what you should be grateful to have…”

Katya’s face contorted into a scoff, “Mom!”

Felix looked back at Catra and spoke up, “Well, I think you two will get along just fine,” he motioned to the way that the tail of the cub swung lazily back in forth, signifying it’s content.

Catra snorted, “She sure seems… clingy…”

She picked a needle like claw off her shirt from where she had gripped at the fabric on her chest.

“Well, she’s still pretty young,” her dad smiled.

C’yra leaned her head in a hand rested on the table, “What do you think you’ll name her?”

Catra thought—naming things wasn’t really her strength. Entrapta had always been the one to name things before she had betrayed her. Typically nicknames she was okay at, but those came in the heat of the moment.

She’d never had to give a name to a living being before.

She almost laughed out loud at the thought of Shadow Weaver giving her one look over as she came in young, and seeing how she looked like a cat—decided to name her Catra. She hoped there was some better reasoning behind the name, but it wasn’t beneath Shadow Weaver to do something so ignorantly undermining.

Catra shrugged, “Not sure yet? I don’t know, I’ll think about it.”

“If she’s young, she’s still impressionable—finding a name soon is smart if you want to train her well,” C’yra shrugged back.

Catra rolled her eyes, “Give me a bit—I just found out about her a second ago.”

“We can research some names in the library today—you and I,” Felix pushed in Catra’s chair and grabbed his satchel from his seat, “We should get going and start lessons soon if you’d like to spar with your friends in the afternoon class, Catra.”

Catra bit back a snide remark saying, “you don’t get to tell what me what to do.” She knew better than to air that kind of ‘typical flippant Catra’ nature when her own sister was being the difficult one right now.

The youngest of them suddenly gasped and stood up from the table as well, “Oh NO!”

Felix blinked, “What’s wrong Tya?”

Katya quickly packed her book into her knapsack and flung it over shoulders, “I forgot I have a test tomorrow! And I have to fight another kid! And win! What kinda test is that?”

Catra raised her eyebrows and smirked, “The kinda test I’m good at?”, she taunted.

Katya’s eyes shot to her sister and her whole face lit up, “Catra—please, I’m begging you! You have to show me how to take somebody down! I’m the brains of this family—and you’re the one with the brawn! Not me!”

Her little sister had clasped her hands together in front of her chest all of a sudden, and her eyes were pleading desperately. She was at the point of begging Catra, so Catra knew it must be kinda important if that’s what she was resorting to.

“As long as you’re nice to me…”, Catra feigned mulling over the proposal as extensively as she could, “Maybe—just maybe, I could show you a few moves…”

“Eeeee!”, Katya squealed, “That sounds like a deal! How about after I finish class today?”

Catra winced slightly at her sister’s overly excited attitude, “Be at the training grounds before I leave with Amaya or it’s off.”

Katya nodded eagerly, “Okay, okay! I gotta go now, but I really hope to see you there!”

And with that, the youngest took off towards the doors—and the guard on the outside must have heard her less than stealthy feet skid across the cool stone floor of the den, because one door opened in time for her to peel out of the room and breeze through the hallways towards her class.

“Well, she seems excited,” Felix smirked.

C’yra frowned thoughtfully, “She never asks me to help her spar…”

Felix chuckled back at her, “That’s because you’re working all the time in the afternoon, C’yra.”

“I suppose…”, she heaved a sigh, “Well Catra—it seems you have your hands full. Do you need anything from me before I hide in my office for a bit?”

Catra shook her head, “Not right now—but um, maybe later. I might need to ask for some advice, about… You know.”

C’yra’s eyes shone in the light of the room, “Ah—yes, our guest I suppose… Sure thing, kitten!”, she said a bit too eagerly, “I’ll be around whenever you need me, although, I suggest we handle the issue sooner rather than later.”

Catra let herself slip a restrained smile her mother’s way, “You’re not the only person who thinks so.”

C’yra gave her a knowing look—one of that only a mother could muster, silently saying, “I told you so.”

Felix watched them, and then put a gentle hand on Catra’s shoulder, “Ready to head out?”

“Should we bring along, you know—her?”, Catra uncurled the small lion cub from her arms and held her aloft under her armpits. The little one’s body stretched with gravity and it’s large eyes blinked up at Felix.

“She can come,” he reached out to skritch between her eyes and rub her snout, “as long as she’s polite to other library patrons I suppose!”

Catra set her down on the floor unceremoniously with a thud and the cub practically bounced on the pads of it’s feet.

Catra watched as her new companion pranced towards the doors happily without looking back, “Cool, uh—let’s go.”

* * *

Aster opened the kitchen door to find Lyra already slaving away over the hot stove.

The stout Magicat woman stirred a big pot of fish chowder on the burner, while humming a peaceful tune, that would soon be enjoyed by most of the palace workers for lunch.

Aster quietly walked over to where she happily worked.

“Hey Lyra!”, he greeted the friendly young woman with a kind wave.

She stopped humming, and her head turned quickly at his voice and she smiled, “Hello Aster! How could I be of service to you today?”

Aster clasped his hands in front of him and leaned on the kitchen counter next to her stove, “Do you think I could steal some of that chowder?”

“For you, or a patient of yours?”, she asked curiously.

Aster chuckled nervously, “A patient—she could really use some of your soup, it always does just the trick.”

Lyra stroked her chin thoughtfully, “Ah I see, I could spare you a bowl I think…”

“Perfect, thank you so much! You’re really the best!”, Aster beamed and he bounced up on his toes.

Lyra’s smile grew into a grin as she looked at kind young man, “All I ask is for, is for you to bring me back my bowl, and tell me how she’s feelin’ later—tell her I hope this helps.”

She took a ladle and scooped out a small portion of the chowder out of the large pot and into a wooden bowl. The creamy liquid steamed in her grasp.

Aster reached out and accepted the generous offer, “Sure thing,” he smiled back.

She eyed him with a goading smirk back on her face, “Come back soon and get some lunch before your class! You’re too small for a lad that works as hard as you do, Aster!”

The boy had started to walk away towards the door, soup in hand. But he turned and walked backwards to face Lyra, “Will do, but I gotta get back to the infirmary right now! I told her I’d be right back!”

And with that, the boy turned to push the door out of the kitchen open with his foot and he called back to his friend, “Thanks again Lyra!”

He shut the door on his way back out and Lyra could overhear his prompt steps as he walked briskly back to his post. She imagined his tail was probably swinging back and forth, nervously, as he turned the corner to the infirmary.

She shook her head and returned to her pot at the stove, “Always workin’—that boy,” she whispered to herself.

* * *

Felix took his regular seat on the table’s bench, and Catra slid in comfortably beside him.

He brought out their books and set them out on the table in front of them—a pile for her, and a pile for him.

Right now, Catra has been working through reading historical documentation of old battles fought by the Magicats, and the rulers that governed during the times of the old wars. The collection of stories had really seemed to capture Catra’s interest, and eager to expand Catra’s horizons in political science and strategizing—her dad encouraged her to read through till the end of the book.

Almost everyday since she came to Half Moon, Catra sat in the library with her father.

While her mother had been more of the type to spar with Catra on the occasion she got away from her duties as queen, her father was more of the type to teach her about her lineage by telling her myths and legends he’d read from historical texts on his adventures in the archives.

As much as she confided in her mother now, Felix was a quiet safe haven she could escape to if she was overwhelmed.

Everyday she sat with him, she began to grow interest for the things he would share with her and suddenly they’d become daily lessons.

They filled the void of the day where her friends had classes outside, including her own sister.

Her parents were quick to recognize Catra’s interests and let her learn at her own pace. Felix was more than happy to indulge her with plenty of books describing successful military tactics and useful tips for future leaders.

Catra had discussed her concern about her role as princess of Half Moon, and what her future might hold if she does decide to take over the throne as the rightful heir one day—but the more she learned and read, the less daunting it seemed, slightly.

As she absentmindedly turned each page of her book, with her cheek tucked within the crook of her palm, she realized just how useful a lot of the tactics she’d read about would’ve been had she’d known them during her time as second in command.

Maybe that’s why she was so scared to lead her people one day.

She didn’t want to become that person again.

Not that C’yra pressured her into the job, but she did feel guilty about how she handled the prospect of taking over the responsibility.

She was scared that she’d mess up again—that she wouldn’t be a good leader despite Felix telling her she was naturally born for it.

She didn’t want to let her people down, especially when she’d finally found a home here and made something of herself for once.

A small paw distracted her from her distant thoughts, and brought her attention to her lap. The cub pawed at her thighs to ask permission to settle in.

“Hey there,” she whispered, looking down from the table she sat at.

She patted her leg to see if she’d climb up.

The little creature eyed her carefully, stepped up and circled around until it got comfy and laid down. Catra felt warmth radiate through her thighs and a small sense of accomplishment welled up in her chest.

Felix looked over beside him to find Catra gently petting the cub’s velvety ears, “Oh how lucky you are,” he smiled at the small cub, “Catra didn’t let me sit too close to her for weeks, and it seems it only took you a few hours…”

“She asked nicely,” Catra replied.

Her father chuckled, “I think she’s starting to warm up to you.”

“I think I’m starting to warm up to her is the more accurate way to put things…”, she mumbled.

“Maybe so, but I’m glad you like her. Your mother was really nervous you wouldn’t get along,” he sighed.

Catra frowned, “Really?”

“Yes,” he shook his head, “she gets so nervous about these things… she loves you a lot, kitten.”

Felix reached over and put a hand to Catra’s shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb.

“She’s trying to make up for lost time, you know?”, he looked at her with somber blue eyes.

“I know,” Catra said quietly as she looked back down to the rumbling lump of dark fur in her lap. Her hand idly playing with the scruff in back of the cub’s neck.

“Well, on that note—have you come up with any names you like from your reading?”, Felix asked her.

Catra sighed, “Not particularly…”

“Nothing?”

“Well, it’s kinda dumb,” she shook her head and laughed a little.

Her father gave her a ridiculous look, “What’s dumb?” He smiled and chuckled to himself, “I doubt it’s that dumb—nothing could be worse than how Aster and Amaya’s father had named his pet mole he had for a while, The Terminator.”

“Why’d he do that?”, she snorted and raised a questioning eyebrow in turn, “Why’d he keep a mole in the first place? Aren’t those things pests down here?”

He shrugged, “Because it would get into everything, and eat anything it could latch onto… Ultimately the little bugger ate an electrical cord in their dwelling and it’s short reign of terror was cut short.”

Catra looked up at Felix for a moment and pondered why he even bothers to tell her these stupid stories—normally when her dad got into the storytelling mood, if it wasn’t some lesson on history or myth, he’d tell old and embarrassing stories about Raiona as a baby or toddler.

“Okay… Well it’s not like that,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

His grin grew and he propped himself up with his elbow resting on the table, pushing away some of the scattered tomes he had strewn about the surface, “Then what did you find if it’s not that bad?”

Catra took in a breath of air and her hands left the small cub’s fur to make gestures as she spoke absentmindedly, “Okay… Well there’s this one sister of the Queen Katrina of the island of Purrsia, from a long time ago. She is supposed to be one of the best soldiers of all Magicat history—or this guy who wrote the book seems to think so—and she died in the last battle Queen Katrina had ordered to take place for her husband, King Paw.”

Felix eyed her and nodded in understanding, “Ahhh, you mean—“

“Yeah, Clawdeen,” she finished her dad’s sentence.

She looked at him warily to gauge his expression, see if she could read his thoughts.

Naming a baby animal that’s supposed to be like your life-long-warrior-pet after a legendary warrior princess of your people… In her head it sounded so childlike and stupid, and she was hesitant to even name the creature in the first place.

But—she liked the name Clawdeen, she thought it sounded cool. If she was going to have a giant cat that could possibly maul down squadrons of perpetrating forces to her home—might as well make her sound intimidating, she thought.

Felix scratched at the scruff that grew around his chin, “That sounds like a strong name,” he thought aloud.

Catra cocked her head to the side, “You think it suits her?”

He shrugged and grinned at his daughter, “Yeah, it has a good meaning to it!”

Catra smiled slightly as she combed her claws through the shiny hair on the cub’s back, “Alright then—Clawdeen it is…”

“Princess C’yra the third of D’riluth and the loyal Clawdeen, what a pair,” her dad said wistfully as he grinned.

She hardened her brow as she glared at him, “Don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

“Why don’t you have more faith in yourself?”, he retorted.

Catra softened—pushing back all the thoughts of why she shouldn’t trust herself to the back of her mind for his sake, “Touché, old man…”

“Well, why don’t you finish that chapter you’re on—young lady!”, he scoffed, and Catra couldn’t tell if he was truly offended or not.

“Hey, watch it!”, she shoved his shoulder playfully and she watched as he slightly wobbled on the bench they were sitting on, “Save that for Rai!”

“Shhhhhhush!”, an older Magicat scholar who often sat in the back table of the library had put a harsh finger to his lips as he eyed Catra and her father. His brow was set in a firm line and it took everything in Catra’s will to hold break into a smirk and cackle at his intense expression of distaste at the two of them.

Felix swiveled around where he sat and shot him a hard glare, “Oh hush up, Alexander! I know you eavesdrop on us all the time, and will never actually finish that book!”

The older man, that Catra had honestly never gotten a name to, took a moment to look the King up and down before he quietly averted his gaze back down to his open tome.

Felix turned back with a sigh, and glanced at Catra.

Catra let the mischievous smile she’d been hiding break across her lips and the two of them began to fall into a fit of laughter.

Clawdeen watched them lazily with wide and curious eyes.

* * *

Despite the warmth of a little food sitting somewhat comfortably in her stomach, Adora’s head felt like it was splitting open from the throbbing pulse that spread from her brow to the nape of her neck. She did her best to ward it off by keeping her eyes closed and laying as still as possible.

The small inferno building in her chest, throat, and head, seemed to slightly distract her from her other wounds at the moment.

It surely didn’t keep her from groaning from time to time though.

Aster sat slumped over on the stool next to her bed eyeing the half empty cup of Lyra’s chowder Adora had barely touched, and listened to her as she refused to admit she was in pain.

“Are you sure you can’t eat anymore?”

Adora barely turned her head and peeked through an open sliver of an eye to find the boy sitting off to her side.

“I don’t want it…”, she rasped.

Aster set his chin in his hand, “You should at least try to have a little more,” he suggested.

Adora glared at him with one bleary blue eye and turned her head back up to stare at the infirmary’s ceiling, “I’m fine,” she lied through her teeth as firmly as her voice would allow.

Truth be told, her throat still stung like a son of a bitch, and it hurt to swallow anything other than water at the moment—let alone speak much louder than a whisper.

Aster returned her glare, “You’re borderline feverish Adora, I wouldn’t count that as fine.”

Adora took a moment and closed her eyes, she willed the small heartbeat that thumped by her brow to lessen as she listened to Aster.

She breathed a shuddering breath in, “I’ll be fine,” she breathed out.

“No,” Aster said carefully, “you’re getting warm, and you’re not strong enough to fight whatever’s gotten into your system already.”

Adora reopened her eyes—they began to feel heavy again, like when she first awoke her the other day. She looked back over at Aster, and his face was stern… But he was also concerned.

She didn’t respond, instead she found herself wondering why someone like him cared this much for someone like her. He had only just met her the other day—he knew nothing about her, he couldn’t know she was the She-Ra could he?

Had she told him?

She couldn’t remember even if she did.

Her head was beginning to feel foggy.

Like she was trudging slowly through murky water to grasp at her own thoughts.

As Adora stared blankly at Aster she realized that he reminded her of Catra—Aster reminded Adora of when one of them used to get sick and they’d cover for each other in the Horde.

Adora would steal away cold medicine from the medical bay whenever Catra got a scratchy throat, and Catra would stash away extra rations from the mess hall and stay with Adora all night until she was able to stomach something when she broke a fever.

Getting sick in the Horde was a terrifying experience, although, Adora greatly appreciated the memories of curling up next to each other on her bunk when one of them didn’t feel well.

She missed having the comfort of Catra next to her.

All of a sudden, she found that she really missed Catra.

“Adora?”

Aster’s light voice filtered in through the hazy fog of her thoughts, “Let me get you an ice pack for your head.”

He stood up from where he was sitting and Adora realized she couldn’t tell how long she had been staring at him on the stool.

“I don’t need anything, really—I’ll,” she cleared her throat and it stung, “sleep it off,” she mumbled.

Aster had already walked over to the small ice chest on the counter by the wall of the room, reaching inside with his hand.

“You were just groaning a second ago… Trying to let the pain subside on its own isn’t going to do you any good,” he picked up a frozen, sewn-shut pack, and wrapped it in a thin washcloth from the side of the rinse basin on the counter. He turned around and came back to the bedside, hesitantly pushing back Adora’s hair with a gentle hand and placing the ice pack on her forehead. She flinched at the freezing touch, and then relaxed into it.

“I can’t force anymore medicine in your system right now—so this is what I can do to help,” the boy said as he took his hand away.

Adora slowly moved her hand up to hold it there herself, “Thanks.”

Aster breathed in deeply and smiled, “You’re very welcome. I hope that feels better.”

It did—the ice numbed her skin and the cold that radiated from the pack seeped into her head, slightly quelling the throbbing ache. Her hand holding the pack to her head was numbing too, but she welcomed how the cool touch distracted her from everything else.

Aster sat back down next to her bed, while she closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief.

Adora quickly realized she had settled down all too soon, apparently. Something abruptly caught in her throat, and it burned.

Adora’s chest tightened and her face contorted as she anticipated another cough like the small ones from earlier this morning, but she inadvertently crumpled in on herself and rolled on her bad side. Pain seared through her stomach and made her feel even more sick—she felt nauseous.

The world hitched for a moment as she tried to cover her cough in her elbow, pulling on her screaming muscles, out of muscle-memory from Shadow Weaver reprimanding her every time she sneezed or coughed in proximity of other cadets without protection.

Her chest and throat burned as a hideous cough racked her rib cage and she crumpled further into herself, and she fought for air as the cough seemed to have aftershocks. Each one loudly echoed off the walls in the tiny room. Her body spasmed… She felt like she couldn’t breath.

She forgot everything around her, including Aster who was scrambling to help her catch a break.

Just as she was about to give up on forcing air into her lungs, Adora wheezed and something shifted. She could breathe again, shakily.

Everything in her body seemed to thrum with a burning, searing heat—and she trembled. Her eyes were still closed and her body didn’t want to uncurl itself.

She felt Aster’s gentle hands try to unfurl her and she carefully obliged out of exhaustion. She could hear him talking to her—but she couldn’t focus enough to know what he was saying to her now.

He rolled her on her back and she whined like a small injured animal, and Aster winced. He didn’t like this.

He watched her face skew up in pain and he, almost instantly, threw away the sheets and his mother’s quilt to the tiled floor of the infirmary.

Aster found what he was looking for—he found a few dark red splotches seeping through his handiwork. The gauze on her side slowly becoming wet with Adora’s blood.

“Oh no no no nonono…”, Aster seethed through his teeth.

* * *

Aster left Amaya with Adora for now—all she had to do was keep pressure on the bleeding and keep Adora awake until he could get Catra.

She was capable, he told himself.

Although, Aster had a hard time trusting others with his job.

Aster could hear his heart racing in his chest as his feet padded against the stone of the hallways that led to the library—that’s where Catra spends most of her time when she’s not training or lurking around looking for trouble.

Running through these halls reminded him of a time he’d rather forget.

But he couldn’t—that’s why this was his job, and he took care of people. He works to heal them because it slowly fills a void in his heart that will never quite be fixed.

Aster missed his mom everyday she wasn’t there working in the infirmary with him.

The boy pushed down the fear and anxiety that embedded itself in his chest and focused on the task at hand.

Adora, being delirious at this point, was impossible to work on in her state. She was almost hysterical by the time Aster was halfway through fixing her stitches and he had to call Amaya to hold her down.

Adora kept calling out for, “Catra.”

She wouldn’t stop crying her name—and so Aster took it as a plea.

Now here he was barging through the doors into Half Moon’s library to look for the girl of the hour.

Maybe Catra was what Adora needed to be able to calm down enough for Aster to stop the bleeding.

He hoped so, at least.

The smaller Magicat briskly stalked the carpeted floor searching the tables and benches for the King and his daughter.

“Catra?”, he called out.

He got some dirty looks for speaking too loudly.

Like he cared at this point.

He suddenly found a wild mane of brunette hair pop up from a book and he recognized the two different eyes that search the area for who called her name.

“Catra!”, called as he ran toward her.

Catra spotted him and looked puzzled, “Aster?”

King Felix quietly peered up from his book as well, making Aster feel uncomfortable at the attention.

“Can I pull you aside for a sec?”, he asked breathlessly while he stood heaving for air in front of his friend’s table of books.

Catra eyed him suspiciously, and set down her book, doggy-earring the page. “Yeah, sure,” she mumbled, and got up from the bench. She untucked her legs from the bench to stand up and lifted an unfamiliar, small, black cat from her lap.

She leaned down to set it next to her father, and put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m going to talk with Aster for a minute and I’ll be back,” she told him quietly, patting his back before walking away.

“No worries,” he smiled as he looked at her.

She sauntered over to Aster and he quickly grabbed her wrist without thinking to pull her out of the library.

She flinched—but didn’t say anything, except she looked surprised. He hated the way he could feel her muscles tense under his palm every time he lightly touched her.

Though, that’s just how it was with his friend. So he kept a tight grip on her, and they made their way to the doors of the library. He pushed one door open and stopped on the other side of the wood, letting it close before dropping Catra’s hand.

Catra quickly looked him up and down and she raised an eyebrow, “Woah, woah, woah—Aster, what’s up? Don’t you have class today?”

Aster blinked… He and Amaya had totally missed today’s classes. Their dad would be pretty mad when he saw him next.

Oops too bad, he thought, I have more important things to do than learn things I already taught myself.

He swallowed, “It’s Adora—class will have to wait, she’s come down with a fever and busted her stitches.”

Catra’s face fell into a numb expression, and Aster couldn’t read her emotions. She stared at him intensely.

“I need your help, Catra,” Aster tried.

He stared back—he knew she’d have to face Adora at some point. That was why Catra saved her in the first place… Right? At least that’s what Aster thought. He felt bad for forcing it on her, but maybe… Maybe this was the best way to get Catra to act on it.

Catra took a shaky breath to finally speak up—but not before Aster cut off whatever excuse she had for him.

He tried again, “Catra—she needs your help. She’s delirious, and she’s calling for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH PHEW!  
Writing is hard when you’re being pulled in fifty different directions at once, you know? I’m glad I finished this chapter though—and the next one is on its way.  
Make sure to check out https://archiveofourown.org/users/archiveofourscone/pseuds/archiveofourscone and https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleWolf95/pseuds/LittleWolf95 !!!! They were a big inspiration for these characters—specifically for Katya and Felix. I’ll keep citing fics as I use any references!  
Also, Aster continues to be best boy and C’yra is now in running for best mom. She’s tryin SO HARD. And Clawdeen—is absolutely a reference to the original She-Ra, (catch me on Wiki Grayskull).  
I’m also planning on updating my older fics soon if you liked any of those ;)  
Kudos and comments are appreciated!!!


	5. I’m Here to Stay: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra and Adora reunite in a less than desirable fashion.
> 
> TW for blood and medical procedures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH. I’m back babey. Sorry for leaving you guys on another cliffhanger. This story seems to have that habit. I haven’t been able to write in a while thanks to school and writers block. I felt bad for disappearing and since everything is going horribly in the world rn I thought I’d put out a chapter for this fic. This chapter will be in two parts because it will be easier for me, and because it was wayyyy too long... But please enjoy this sliver of catradora content in these trying times!

Aster made up for his small size in his speed and agility. He padded briskly back down the halls that led to the infirmary and cut corners by turning on his heels. Catra was breathless before she started running, but now her lungs were on fire as she forgot how to breath in general.

Her head buzzed with thoughts, and she was blindly following the boy in front of her. His tail was trailing behind him wildly. As Catra sprinted around the corner, she could hear her—she was just down the hallway.

She knew that voice so viscerally that it made the hairs on her neck stand on end.

Adora’s voice haunted her mind and memories constantly if she didn’t work to suppress it. Guilt from their past aggressions raided her dreams at night if she didn’t take a sleeping potion before bed.

But now she was facing her head on—and the cries that echoed in the final hallway led to a slightly cracked open wooden door, and a slightly more concerned guard standing outside of it.

* * *

“C-catra…”, Adora wheezed, “Catra?”

Amaya stood over Adora keeping one hand to Adora’s chest and one to Adora’s uncovered wound. She was trying to hold her down, while keeping the slow bleeding at bay.

Aster’s older sister watched Adora clamp her eyes shut and struggle to barely fight off Amaya’s stern hand.

Adora meekly tossed her head and grit her teeth as she moved, “Catra!”, she managed to call out louder. Her voice cracked with how hoarse it was becoming, and Amaya couldn’t help but wince a little.

Amaya’s ears drooped and she bit her lip as she continued to watch, and felt heat radiate off of the girl she was barely holding down. Adora, even in this state, was still a worthy opponent.

Amaya knew that sometimes it wasn’t the blood loss or the pain that would kill a warrior wounded from battle—usually, death came from the infection that followed after. The real fight that mattered was the one against a fever, and one had to be strong enough to fend it off and then break it while already knocked down. Amaya had heard stories from her father about this. He’d seen the best be struck down while they were simply asleep.

She knew the possibility of dying from something so trivial, after subduing the worst of it all, quite scared Aster—more than he let on.

Amaya realized it when their own Mother had gotten sick, Aster had taken the brunt of the emotional impact their little family had shouldered.

She often wondered if Aster was working in the infirmary to cope with the intruding memories of the nights he spent, in the very room she was standing in, hopelessly taking care of their dying mother.

She often regretted not being there to help on many of those nights.

“Aster is getting Catra right now, she’ll be here,” Amaya relented.

Adora didn’t so much as open her eyes to look at the other girl, and continued to weakly push against Amaya, “W-where’s Catra?”

Amaya huffed and gently added more force to halt Adora’s delirious writhing. She wondered how much Adora had given thought to Catra before, to allow her be the subject of her semi-conscious ramblings. She was pretty sure Aster and Adora hadn’t even discussed her yet.

“She’s here—she’ll be here,” Amaya replied, and hoped she was right.

The blonde tried harder to move but to no avail, until she stopped all together. Her body sunk into the mattress as her labored breathing hitched like she was about to sob.

It pulled at something within Amaya that she hadn’t remembered she could feel anymore. An odd sort of sympathetic feeling, that stemmed from a repressed memory that hadn’t been pulled to the forefront of her mind in a long time.

Amaya listened as Adora whined, “But she’s not here! I just want Catra...”, the girl trailed off and had begun to grip and pull at the sheets beneath her with her blunt fingernails. Amaya winced expecting them to rip, but then remembered that Adora was only human.

Adora felt sticky and hot—like a fire burned in her side and in her chest, as well as her head. It was hard to breathe more than raspy, shallow breaths. Like a weight, other than the hand that was holding her down, was pressing onto her ribs. Not to mention the splitting headache that hummed with an unbridled rage, was emitting a sickly temperature at her sweat covered brow.

Amaya gave her a concerned look, despite the fact that Adora wouldn’t be able to see it with her eyes shut so tightly, “I know—just…”

Adora tensed under her hand and cut her off, “I need Catra!”, she cried out.

Amaya could see tears gathered under her eyelids.

This was not the first time tonight she’d done this since Aster ran up to her in the hall asking for her help. Nothing Amaya said seemed to get Adora to calm down.

It began to scrape away at her already waning patience.

Although, her resolve to help her brother have a chance to do what he loves—helping random strangers he gets too emotionally attached to—pushed her to dig deep and find more patience.

Amaya pursed her lips and kept her hold over the damp cloth at Adora’s abdomen like her brother had instructed, and one hand on her chest as she heaved.

* * *

Outside the door, Catra nodded to the guard and Aster all but flew into the room—she was not far behind. As she let the door handle click behind her, Amaya saw the rigid stillness of Catra’s tail. She was barely keeping it from swinging back and forth anxiously.

You could practically feel Catra’s tension in the room become so heavy and dense, that it felt like it was hard to breathe around her.

Amaya couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to be in her place right now.

Catra couldn’t either.

It felt like an out of body experience to stare at the girl that seemed to be at the eye of her hurricane for so long, laying crumpled on a bed, splattered with her own blood being held down as she whimpered in a feverish state.

Catra’s body moved without thinking, and before her brain could register what she was doing she was already walking closer to her.

“Hey—Adora,” she said softly without meaning for it to come out that way. She cringed at the familiar biting-remarks she’d made in the past, suddenly edging to the forefront of her mind.

She felt the fear seep into her throat and it held back her own voice.

Adora didn’t seem to notice her standing over her bed across from Amaya, who stared on curiously as she continued to keep Adora complacent.

Catra leaned in closer and cleared her tightening throat. She breathed in shakily.

“Adora”, she said firmer this time, shaking her shoulder apprehensively.

The blonde’s eyes took a minute to register the appropriate reaction, and then they blinked open painfully slow to scan the room for a person to match the voice—straining to focus on Catra through tears. It was as if she was looking at a ghost, but recognition flashed across her face a second later.

“Catra”, a bit of relief edged into her scratchy voice. Her throat must be raw, Catra supposed.

It was weird to hear relief come from the girl who’s last reaction to seeing her was anything but.

Catra pushed those thoughts aside for the time being and focused on the task at hand.

She cleared her throat to reorganized her thoughts, leaning onto her hands as she sat down on the bedside, “I’m here—I’m right here. Chill out,” she scolded quietly.

Again, she didn’t mean to sound harsh, but she always did. She was always either too harsh or too meek. She supposed sounding harsh was at least better than sounding so blatantly vulnerable.

She went at it a different way after another breath, trying to channel her inner C’yra, “We aren’t in the Fright Zone—nobody wants to hurt you.”

She sounded softer, but firm, which was better.

Catra took a second, and mentally patted herself on the back. It proved to the tiny part of her brain that constantly berated her for her actions that she was in fact learning from her new surroundings.

Adora searched her face with untrained eyes like it was an unreadable map, “Everything feels wrong—I… Where’d… Where did you go?” Adora’s voice wavered, threatening to turn into heavy sobs.

Catra paused and her brow crumpled in thought. She shook her head, “I was only gone for a bit, now relax—please.”

For a moment, with Adora so shaken and delirious, it was like neither of them had even left. Despite both of them being separated for quite a while—that seemed like the best response, even though she knew she was avoiding the truth.

More pieces of Adora’s hair stuck to her forehead when they fell, “I c-couldn’t find you… It felt like so long,” she mirrored Catra—shaking her head too.

Catra fought the urge to lift her right hand and scrape the plastered strands back and away from her blue-gray eyes. “I guess I can’t always just be at your beck and call can I?”

Adora looked confused, “I… I just w-wanted you here with me… We always look after e-each other when we don’t feel good.”

Catra sucked in, and let out yet another shaky breath. She hadn’t felt bad in the moment for most of the things she’d said to Adora in the past, but now Catra felt like she had kicked a small, helpless animal. She supposed that was emotional growth, as she tried to move past the internalized guilt that had built up over the last few months in the forefront of her mind. It was difficult not to lose patience with Adora like this, but she knew she wasn’t really her most intelligible self at the moment.

It felt like how it was in the portal—like someone hit the reset button back to a simpler time, actually. It almost made things easier between them, but Catra also couldn’t help but feel frustrated at how the moment she’d imagined she’d actually face Adora didn’t involve dismissing all the progress she’d made on her own time.

They had so much to talk about—but it never felt like the right time to say anything. Especially right now. But in hindsight, she never thought she’d get the chance to fix things between she and Adora in the first place.

That’s why bringing her here was so important, Catra realized.

Maybe, if she didn’t leave Adora behind like she had imagined when she thought about getting revenge—then maybe Adora wouldn’t make the same mistake. Catra could prove to herself that she could be better, and maybe Adora would happen to stay this time.

Is that all she really wanted?

“I know. That’s why I came. Technically, I still owe you for the last time you covered for me,” Catra huffed out.

She remembered, what must’ve been over a year ago or more now, a time when her cramps got so bad during her cycle that Adora had snuck her pain meds and water throughout the following days. She’d covered her in training. She’d dragged her along, and saved her butt from every suspecting comment aimed at her from the overseeing captains that day. No one knew about the blood stain left on the sheets of her bunk the night before—or found out, that she’d scrunched up against the wall that day and threw up while Adora fought her share for her.

It was so demeaning.

But also sweet—Adora always was too caring a heart for the Horde when she thought back on it.

Shadow Weaver was unconvinced but seemed satisfied with Adora’s excuses and Catra’s facade. They’d perfected the strategy over years of covering for each other.

That night Adora let Catra curl up next to her under her blanket with a warm and comforting hand pressed against her stomach. They laid that way until the horrible pains subsided, and it basically left Catra purring for the whole night as they slept.

Here in Half Moon’s infirmary though—Adora worked to put her scrambled thoughts into words, “You always… You always make me feel…”

She couldn’t quite articulate whatever was going through her mind—Catra guessed her brain must've been cooked well-done by now with the state of her fever. She’d stopped gripping the sheets as she worked to think, and her voice grew thicker as it rasped rather than waivered.

Out the corner of Catra’s eye, she watched Aster run about the room in order to prepare to close up the rest of the wound again, while Catra talked and kept Adora’s already diminishing attention.

The Magicat boy ran from the supply closet to grab more disinfectant, then back across the room to open up a cupboard over the sink—clinking empty bottles and pans together as he reached up on the tips of his toes to grab gloves.

Catra placed a finger to her lips, “Shhhh,” she hushed. “Just calm down. We can do this later… You aren’t looking like you’re in your prime exactly right now, princess.”

Adora’s face twitched and then softened, “Aster... And her... They’re not mad?”, she asked quietly. A silly question. Catra had to keep herself from scoffing. 

Catra looked up from Adora, and at Amaya who was staring at her for probably most of the entire conversation. The other Magicat quickly blinked and looked away to the side—flustered that she’d zoned out.

“Who—them?”, Catra nodded to Amaya across from her.

Adora stole a glance at the other girl—who, to her, confusingly looked like Catra—but not really. She’d never met another person quite like Catra, of course, before she’d met Aster after she regained consciousness. It was shocking to see other people with similar ears that flick and tails that twitch like Catra’s.

If Adora wasn’t looking so horribly feverish, the confusion of Adora looking between the Magicats would’ve been amusing to Catra.

Adora calmly and carefully nodded in reply.

“No—they’re softies like you. These two are just worried about you,” Catra finally released a laugh.

Adora stared at Catra for a moment before replying, “They remind me of you… Aster, he reminded me of you earlier.”

Catra smirked at the remark. Of course she thought that they looked just like her when she’d first laid eyes on them too—but after living with her people for more than a month it was easy to see that everyone had a unique look about them. Whether it be from their hair, to their tail, to the different markings everyone had on their bodies. It was just that she’d never met anyone in the Horde that looked like herself, so it was a learning curve to suddenly be surrounded by her kind.

Catra shook her head again, “Aster and Amaya aren’t anything like me.”

Adora’s mouth twitched with something like a dopey smile, “No—you’re mean…”, Adora whispered, “But—they look like you.”

Catra felt conflicted to either laugh at that, or to feel burned by what Adora had said and make a bite back. Not that’d she’d let it show, though. It was just a bit too soon to all of a sudden go back to their usual bickering banter. She kept a straight face.

Although, Amaya snickered from her side of the bed. She was still holding the reddened cloth to Adora’s side, but then clamped her other hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh before Catra’s eyes glared into her soul.

“Watch yourself, princess.” Adora didn’t quite respond and Catra pursed her lips in thought. “You—no… I don’t want to get into this when your eyes can’t even focus on me sitting right in front of you for more than a minute,” she warned.

Catra’s stare grew more intense as she heard Amaya snicker harder against her hand.

Adora blinked, and blinked again—suddenly groaning, “I really, really, really messed up didn’t I?” She asked, completely onto another subject. Her old friend's mind must’ve been completely shot at this point, Catra thought.

Her left ear flicked quickly and her nose scrunched up, “What? No? I mean yeah, not so much as I did… I guess.” She was caught off guard.

Adora just kept staring wildly at Catra, not quite listening. Her brows drew even closer together, “You must hate me… I’ve been so angry with you…”

Catra decided to simply shake her head, “I want to say the feeling is mutual, but I think it’s more complicated than that. But we can talk about that later… You know, when you’re more cognitively functioning and such...”

Adora continued to search Catra’s eyes in confusion, thinking of what to say next. Then she breathed in a raspy breath and coughed slightly—causing her to wince and whine out loud.

Catra’s attention jumped to her friend on the other side of the bed and watched with bated breath as Amaya grimaced and held more pressure over the wound.

She turned back to Adora, who squeezed her eyes shut and wheezed.

Her hand was so close—so close she could so easily touch Adora again. Just a short distance from her side.

For someone who once wanted to inflict pain on her friend—it was difficult to watch her be in pain at the moment. It was that feeling from before. Catra wasn’t sure if that had changed in this very moment, or if she’d gained a new sense of empathy sometime after her arrival in Half Moon.

But all of a sudden, Catra felt frozen in place, like Adora was some foreign territory she didn’t dare cross.

But then again… She wasn’t one to let the unknown stop her from moving forward.

Very carefully, Catra slowly moved her hand across the sheets to rest on Adora’s shoulder. Like before, not quite like holding her hand—this was an easier first step.

A firm and familiar touch.

She’d learned that Adora made her feel things that she hadn’t felt for a long time. Not necessarily all good things—but they were better than the emptiness she felt inside even as she rose up in the ranks of the Horde, and even as she had jumped to her own fate.

She waited for her hand to be swatted away, or for her to flinch from the unwanted touch—but it never came.

“Hey—but, look at me Adora,” Catra let herself release a sigh, “you’re gonna be fine. You always end up okay in the end. Everything is just… Complicated. It always has been.”

When the blonde reopened her eyes, a few tears built up at their edges. Adora looked like she was trying to find Catra in a haze as she squinted to keep them from falling.

“That’s what they always say, and then we keep on fighting… And we hurt each other,” she rasped. Her breath shuddered from her wet cough.

Catra blinked and shook her head, “T-that’s not what… ugh,” she drew her palm over her face. She didn’t really mean complications with both sides of the war they were fighting. “I said don’t wanna talk about this with you like… This. You can’t even think straight right now.”

Adora’s face crumpled and looked more scared than Catra had seen since she’d attacked her in the portal. Once upon a time, Catra would’ve liked to see that kind of look coming from her old friend, but right now it made her heart clench more than anything.

There it was, that feeling again.

The tears Adora had hardly been able to keep at bay messily rolled down the blonde’s blushed cheeks. “But I don’t know when I’ll get to see you again,” she admitted.

Catra’s hand tightened on Adora’s shoulder, and rubbed slow circles into her muscle and bone. “You’ll see me again, I—“, she cut herself off. She rethought how she wanted to word this sentence to evade any past mistakes. “I mean, I’ll stay right here. I’ve been staying right here for a while anyway. I’m trying something different.”

Adora’s eyes continued to water, and she looked like she didn’t believe the other girl, “You’ll stay?”

Her hand fumbled to shakily rest upon Catra’s that still sat on her shoulder. Catra’s wrist tensed at the sudden reciprocation of contact before it relaxed at the sickly warm touch of Adora’s sweaty palm.

The pull in her chest she kept feeling was becoming more and more familiar.

Catra sighed, and looked into her glassy gaze. She nodded her head, “Yeah, you don’t look too good ‘Dora.”

Adora’s breath rattled in her throat as she breathed in, “I don’t feel so good either.”

“I know,” Catra continued to rub circles mindlessly. Not thinking about the contact she was making too much.

“I’m so tired,” Adora whimpered like she was six again—and they were too tired from a training session to walk all the way back to their barracks as kids.

They used to lean on each other the entire trip back and fall into Adora’s bottom bunk, right next to each other.

Catra’s expression grew more serious, and her eyes fought to stare deeper into Adora’s behind drooping eyelids. “You’ve gotta stay with us, okay?” She needed to get the message across. Her hand’s grip subconsciously tightened on her shoulder—she needed to stay awake until Aster had done his job.

Adora shivered in response, but she seemed to listen well enough. Her eyes still trained on Catra for the moment, despite the purple circles underneath them.

With a screech of a stool’s legs, Aster finally pulled up beside Amaya with his tray of new medical equipment he’d spent the last few minutes collecting.

Apparently, he’d called upon his sister after Adora had managed to shatter a few bottles and dirtied everything else by knocking the last tray onto the infirmary floor.

He sat down at Adora’s side and carefully peeled Amaya’s hands off of the open wound, and the sticky cloth with it. Aster pursed his lips looking at the ripped stitches.

“Catra… I’m going to start, I don’t know how long you can keep her entertained but…”, he trailed off as he grabbed what he needed off the tray.

Catra nodded anyway, and looked away as her friend began to clean the wound again. She wasn’t so sure she could stomach seeing much more blood right now—other than her own.

As soon as Catra refocused on Adora, she was prepared to say something else.

“I was—wasn’t strong enough to support my friends… I couldn’t be there for them,” her voice was shakier than before, which was not good knowing Aster needed her calm.

Catra pushed it aside instead, “Let’s not talk about that right now,” she hushed firmly.

Though, Adora ignored her. “Maybe this whole thing was my fault. I was weak, like you told me…”

Catra scowled and leaned closer into her view, “You’re not weak—you’re stubborn and I need you to be stubborn right now and keep your eyes from closing while Aster works on you.”

More tears streamed from her glassy eyes and down her cheeks, “But I’m tired, Catra, and...”

“It’s okay to say it hurts here. No one is going to make fun of you for it. I can attest to that, trust me.”

“I just want all of it to go away,” she whispered. “I can’t help but remember all the stupid things I want to forget.”

Adora looked so defeated, and Catra felt something resonate within herself.

“Then let me tell you a story. I’ll tell you a story to keep you awake… And it will distract you for a bit,” she hushed, and sat back to move her chair closer to the head of Adora’s bed.

Adora relaxed and her eyes shone a little brighter than before, “A story?”

“Yeah, like the ones we used to share when we were little kids…”

“In the barracks?”

“Under the covers after lights out.”

“I remember...”, Adora nodded.

Catra snorted, “I hope you do, after all that brain damage you had.”

“I never had brain damage…”, Adora frowned.

Catra shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, “Sure, look at you now.”

Adora batted a painfully weak blow to Catra’s arm where it rested on the mattress, “I want to hear your story…”

Catra flinched slightly out of pity, “Alright—um, give me a moment.”

Aster shot her a look as he worked, “No roughhousing over there, you two.”

Catra rolled her eyes and leaned her chin on her palm, tapping her lip with a clawed finger, in thought.

Aster cleared his throat, catching Catra’s attention. He held up a clean rag drenched in a clear liquid from one of his bottles.

Catra knew from experience that the liquid usually stung pretty horribly if you had a deep cut.

She wasn’t sure what it would do to a wound as severe as Adora’s though. All she knew was that it wouldn’t be pretty.

Adora started to look over in the other direction of where Amaya was next to Aster, and Catra swung back to face Adora and shake her arm, “Hey, my eyes are up here, Adora. Don’t look at what they are doing.” She had to act quickly—otherwise she knew this wouldn’t end up pretty.

She got Adora’s attention back just as Aster began to wipe around the wound, softly cleaning the area.

Catra prepared herself for whatever reaction Adora had to the disinfectant. She tensed as she watched Adora’s teeth grit almost instantly and the cold sting pierced through the haze of her fever.

“Hhnnugh…”, the blonde groaned through her clenched jaw, and her head reeled back into the pillows as her breathing hitched and picked up it’s pace. 

Catra suddenly realized she should be doing her job—keeping Adora preoccupied.

She clasped her hands together after taking a breath, “Uhhh… Shit—Once upon a time in the Wastes… There was… a girl.”

“Just a girl?”, Adora quietly asked as she managed to bare through the pain, peering over at Catra. 

Catra slid a hand down her face, “Hold on, Adora geez.” She had to get her thoughts together—improvise this shit on the fly. It was harder now than it was when she was six. 

“I’m sorry…” Adora winced at Catra’s tone and at the unpleasant pulse that spread throughout her middle.

“I don’t want to hear it, I just don’t have a lot of stupid stories to tell anymore, so I’m making this one up as I go,” she half-lied. Catra’s nerves were shot and it made it hard to come up with a random fairytale.

Before the two of them knew it, Aster had the needle ready and he pulled through the first stitch. Catra didn’t even have to look down—she knew by the look on Adora’s face.

The blonde squirmed under the pairs of hands holding her down, “Ah! No, no, no… P-please stop…” Adora’s back tried to arch—she could barely move, but she tried to flinch away anyways. Amaya stood up, and managed to keep her in place.

It was unusual to watch Adora handle pain so childishly.

“I’m sorry, Adora! I know this sucks,” Aster quickly apologized. He didn’t stop though, he kept working quickly. Pulling skin and tissue back together and threading it tightly with little knots. 

Catra felt a surge of urgency climb up from her gut. “Shut up—but keep those eyes open, looking at me, and listen…”

“Catra—it hurts…” Adora’s face contorted and she sobbed. Her eyes red and snot was leaking from her nose. 

She’d seen Adora shed tears before, sure, but she’d never seen Adora cry over a medical procedure. Although, Catra wasn’t even sure if Adora had had something this bad happen to her before. But she knew Horde cadets didn’t cry when they had their bones set, or stitches put in place. It made Catra’s insides twist to have to keep watching.

Aster didn’t even glance away from what his hands were doing, “I’m trying to be as gentle as I can, while getting the job done as cleanly and efficiently as possible—I swear.” He didn’t need to tell Catra twice, she knew he was doing his best.

But it certainly didn’t help to calm anyone down.

Catra just hoped that Aster would be able to finish soon—and that Adora wouldn’t pass out from the pain and forget this whole ordeal.

She didn’t want to start this whole awkward reunion over from scratch.This new and unfamiliar feeling that kept reawakening and pawing at her chest—it made her think that maybe her heart wouldn’t be able to take it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little note: Adora didn’t really know Catra was around Half Moon—she was just acting on instinct, and Catra’s really just been chilling for the past few chapters away from Adora to avoid talking to her. But we knew that that wouldn’t last long haha, right? Storytelling man.  
Part 2 will be up sometime soon. It’s written but needs work, that’s why I found a good cliffhanger and uploaded this part so y’all could feast on it for a little bit. Thank you all for the nice comments, they are fun to read! And please always leave kudos—they are much appreciated and they make my day! Here’s a little snippet to get you through till the next chapter ;)
> 
> “Catra held her hand flat to the other girl’s chest—silently watching it rise and fall with shallow and trembling breaths under the thin sheets. Adora had fallen into a restless sort of sleep. Sometimes she’d mumble unintelligible things, or her hand would clench and release the quilt layered on top of her.  
Adora’s fever had gone down in the past hour, but had not broken just yet. She could see in the dimly lit infirmary the layer of moisture that had built up on her skin from the heat that raged from inside of her. Yet—Catra still caught Adora shivering every so often under her touch.  
Catra traced every stray bit of damp-with-sweat blonde hair that stuck to Adora’s pale skin with her eyes and followed them downward as each oily strand splayed out across the pillow top.  
She pushed some of them away and back from her forehead with a hesitant, feather-light hand. She imagined once Adora could have a sober thought, she’d be disgusted with how grimy she probably felt.  
Distracted, Catra’s tail swayed with anxiety as she pushed up the slowly falling ice pack back up to sit on Adora’s warm forehead. Pretty soon, Adora’s forehead alone will have burned through her third ice pack tonight.  
Catra didn’t hear the tentative footsteps closing in behind her.  
“So this is her?”, her mother’s voice asked in the quiet of the room.”
> 
> Until next time my lads! Stay healthy!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so I know I never seem to stick to one story but that’s the fun of this site I guess. I really wanted to write my own Catra redemption story, and I’m excited to make a bunch of references to a few that I’ve read in the past! This story takes a lot of viewpoints from season 3. And I also know that there’s so many fics that describe how Catra finds her family, but I wanted to work a bit backwards to make it so that it’s a little more interesting to read. I hope you guys like it! And I will add a few original characters, but nothing ridiculous... just a few Magicats. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated my dudes!


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